


The Grass Would Be Greener if You Actually Watered The Lawn

by Kayotics



Category: South Park
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Angst and Humor, Babies, Children, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Humor, Illustrated, Illustrations, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayotics/pseuds/Kayotics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Kyle kept on putting one foot in front of the other, he would be able to live his life by a strict plan.  Go to college, get a degree, start a career, marry a nice girl, get a house, and start a family. But then he screwed up.  And once you lose your footing, it’s hard to find balance again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy Accidents Don’t Usually Cry This Much

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm really excited to release this chapter. I've worked pretty hard on this, and I'm happy to finally share it with everyone. There's a few people I want to thank first.
> 
> First, I want to thank my friends Rachie and Marley, who I used to throw ideas at and who gave me feedback in the initial stages of planning.
> 
> Second, I want to thank my friend Dee, who is an amazing writer, a wonderful beta reader, and an even more spectacular friend. She's both a mentor and a sister to me.
> 
> Third, I want to thank and dedicate this fic to my mom. A lot of this fic is inspired or directly taken from her life after having me. So in a way, this is partially her story.
> 
> And finally, I want to thank everyone who was interested in this story in the first place. If there wasn't interest, I probably wouldn't have started it. And now, on to the story.

### Chapter 1: Happy Accidents Don’t Usually Cry This Much

“Dude, you didn’t come down this weekend,” Stan said into his phone, which was balanced awkwardly between his ear and his shoulder. He sat on his bed, a notebook on his lap and his fingers absentmindedly moving a pen across the paper.

“Yeah, sorry. Some shit went down. I should have texted you or something,” Kyle said, sounding distracted. At least he sounded truly apologetic. Stan frowned.

“We’ve only got a few weeks of summer left. I want to see you.” Stan was acutely aware that he was sounding like a whiny girlfriend at the moment, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Kyle had been sparse this entire summer, since he had decided to stay in Denver to work when he wasn’t taking classes. Apparently he had moved in with his girlfriend. Stan hadn’t met her yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“I know, man, I want to see you too. I just…” Kyle made a strange grunting sound into the phone, as if he were trying to decide something.

Stan sighed noisily, making sure that it was loud enough for Kyle hear, wishing that this awkwardness between them would clear up. Things were never this awkward between them before.

“I just don't get what’s so tough about coming to visit now. You should be more free now than you were during the school year, and while we were in school you came back home almost every weekend,” Stan argued, his pen tracing the same circle he had been drawing for the past five minutes.

“I’m sorry! I’ve just been busy with work and my girlfriend…” Kyle trailed off, losing his thoughts to something else that he wasn’t telling Stan.

“Your girlfriend? Jeez, what about your best friend?” Stan could hardly forgive himself for saying that. He had left the realm of ‘needy girlfriend’ and had gone straight into ‘jilted and jealous lover.’ He cleared his throat and amended his statement with, “Kenny is busy working his fifty billion jobs and the only other people around here are Cartman-” Kyle scoffed at the name- “and, like, Craig and stuff. People I don’t hang around with.”

“Aren’t they getting drunk all the time? That sounds like your type of crowd.”

“Hey, fuck you.” Stan could hear Kyle laughing, and found himself grinning because of it.

“What about Wendy? She’s back from college, isn’t she?”

“I think she’s with Token or some guy from her school or something. Besides, things are a bit awkward between us since the last time we broke it off.” Kyle hummed thoughtfully into the receiver.

“I dunno, dude. Try making friends with them?”

“I wouldn’t have to if my best friend would come back to hang out with me,” Stan chided, clicking his tongue behind his teeth.

Kyle was quiet for a few minutes, and Stan wasn’t sure how to break the silence between them. After a few minutes, Kyle said, “Yeah. We’ll hang out soon. I’ll text you the next time I come to visit.”

The conversation ended shortly after. Kyle never came to visit that summer. He never even sent a text.

\- - -

After getting his Associate’s degree, Stan was sort of stuck. He was stuck in his schooling, stuck with what he wanted to do with his life, and he was stuck in South Park. He was still living with his parents, having stayed there while he was going to the community college twenty minutes away.

Stan was also stuck doing errands for his mom, since he had no social life and was sort of just being a piece of shit back at the house. He was kind of grateful she asked him to go get some groceries, since he had been feeling useless and was about to crack out a case of beer and drink himself stupid, just because he was bored.

The last few items on his list were off in the far end of the grocery store, so he made his way down the aisles, checking down each one for what he needed. There weren’t many people in the store, but the few people he did see, he recognized. Except that guy. There was some homeless looking guy in the cracker aisle, wearing dirty sweats and with mangled red hair.

Wait, no. Stan knew him. Stan definitely knew him. That was _Kyle_. Kyle Broflovski, in the flesh, standing in the middle of a grocery aisle in South Park. Kyle ‘I’m going to drop off the face of the earth and not keep in contact with anyone for a year and a half’ Broflovski, shopping in a grocery store that was an hour and thirty minutes from his shitty apartment in Denver.

Stan hardly recognized him, but the gangly kid was definitely Kyle. Kyle stood in the middle of the aisle, carrying a shopping basket in one arm and inspecting a small jar in the other. His hair, which had normally been covered by a hat, was free and frazzled, looking like it had been neglected for a while. Most incredibly, Kyle was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, both of which had his university’s name and logo plastered on it. In all the time that Stan had known him, Kyle had never once worn sweatpants out in public.

Stan, hardly believing it himself, called out to him. “Kyle?”

The boy in question jumped, nearly dropping whatever was in his hand, and whipped his head around to look directly at Stan. Stan walked forward, his brow furrowing as he realized that _Kyle_ was back in town and _hadn’t said anything_.

“Ah! Stan. How nice to see you here. Who would have thought we’d run into each other?” Kyle stammered out, looking like a deer in the headlights. As Stan neared, he could make out the heavy bags under Kyle’s eyes. He looked exhausted. Kyle seemed to move slowly, a ghost of his former self. Through the waves of fury that rolled off of him, Stan felt a surge of concern for his friend.

“Kyle, I live here. What are _you_ doing here?” Stan breathed out, trying to keep his anger under control. Stan glared up at Kyle, his piercing stare focused on Kyle’s nervous eyes.

“I… uh. I’m in town… I just needed some things.” Stan glanced over to Kyle’s basket, but as soon as he did so Kyle shifted so its contents were out of Stan’s view. They stood for a few incredibly awkward moments, just staring each other down. Finally, Kyle turned away from Stan, looking ashamed. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around maybe,” Kyle said dismissively, grabbing a few items at random off of the shelf and hurrying out of the aisle. Stan stood there in shock, watching Kyle’s retreating form, amazed at how he had so thoroughly been ignored.

Stan wanted to scream.

Normally, Stan wasn’t one to get worked up over things (okay, that was kind of a lie), but right then he was furious. He stood in the middle of the grocery store, the florescent lights beating down on him and casting a sickly glow on everything. His anger started to fade, gradually being replaced with nausea and shame. He felt like he had just been slapped, or that his mom caught him doing something wrong. But the biggest thing was that Kyle didn’t even seem to care, and that just made him feel like… well… shit. He felt like shit.

Stan felt like an idiot as he noticed the pinpricks of tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He wouldn’t let himself cry, though. Weeping in a grocery store was too pathetic, even for Stan. Unfortunately, he couldn’t turn his thoughts away from Kyle. Was the reason that Kyle had pulled away from everyone because he didn’t want to deal with Stan? Or maybe he was too good for South Park now. The lights were getting to him. They were too bright. Stan decided to stop himself before he got too deep into his thoughts. As he left the store, he decided to take a look at what Kyle had been so furiously grabbing at.

Until that moment, Stan hadn’t even realized what aisle they were in. Kyle had been buying baby food.

\- - -

Driving was a way for Stan to unwind. He did it when he was stressed out, cruising the back roads of Park County until he was nearly out of gas. Back in high school, when their responsibilities weren’t as obtrusive, the four of them, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman, would take off for a few hours, blasting crappy 90’s music through blown out speakers, singing until they were hoarse.

Maybe driving wasn’t the best stress relief at the moment. It just reminded Stan of Kyle.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he was surprised when he found himself parked in front of the Broflovski household. Stan had half a mind to turn his car back on and speed out of there, but something made him stop. Knowing he wasn’t going to get any answers sulking inside his car, Stan wrapped his coat around him and stepped out, bracing himself against the chilly November wind.

The path to the house felt like it was a mile long, and by the time Stan reached the front steps, he was so worked up that he had to take a few minutes just to calm himself enough to lift his hand to the doorbell.

Breathing in fiercely, as if filling his lungs was going to fill himself with confidence, Stan pressed his finger to the small button near the door. He brought his hand back down to his side and waited, staring the door down with an intensity that made it seem like Stan was trying to melt it. Stan could hear some screaming in the house, which, while it was not unusual for there to be shouting matches led by Kyle or his mom, was a bit concerning.

The door opened, and Stan took a breath to start demanding answers, but the sight before him made his words die in his throat.

Kyle held the door open, looking even more haggard than before (if that was even possible), holding a wailing baby girl in his arms. Kyle was apparently deaf to her screams, as he looked completely zoned out and unaffected by them. Stan took them both in, and finally Kyle seemed to understand that he was looking at someone he knew. As Kyle slowly realized who was standing in the doorway, his eyes widened in horror, shame crossing his features as he gripped the door handle tighter.

Stan almost missed it over the cries of the baby in Kyle’s arms, but he managed to catch Kyle breathing out, “Shit.” Stan thought for sure that he was going to have the door slammed in his face, but instead Kyle backed away from the door, letting Stan inside the house.

It had been a while since Stan had last been in the Broflovski house, but not much had changed. The living room was rearranged a little, and they still had the same sofa that they had always had, looking a little ratty from all the abuse over the years. 

The carpet was littered with a few toys and miscellaneous baby clothes and socks, but Stan wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings. He was still looking at Kyle and what he was holding.

Kyle, for the most part, looked as though he was going to collapse. The baby in his arms was still crying, apparently not being soothed by Kyle’s bouncing and calming words, and Kyle was on the verge of tears himself. Stan wasn’t sure if it was frustration or exhaustion, but there hadn’t been many times where Kyle was brought to tears.

“Dude,” Stan started, and part of him hated that it felt good to say that again to his best friend, “you look like you’re ready to drop.” For a short moment, things between them felt right again, but the child’s screams broke the illusion rather quickly.

The look that Kyle gave would have been comical if it weren’t for the circumstances. “I’m sorry,” he said, as if though Stan were personally offended. Maybe he was, but being apologized to was pissing him off. The Kyle he knew didn’t give out apologies for nothing.

“Why don’t you take a nap or something?” suggested Stan, sounding almost accusing in his tone. Kyle shook his head roughly, not really answering, but he bounced the baby in his arms as a means of explanation.

“I’m here alone. No one’s here to take care of her.”

Stan felt awful for being so bitter, though he thought he had a right to be. Kyle seemed to just hanging by a thread, barely hanging on to his sanity. The fire that Stan was so used to seeing in him was extinguished, now it was just a few hot coals. Right now, he wasn’t even sure if Kyle was fully aware of what was happening around him. Stan brought himself forward and held out his arms, saying simply, “Let me hold her, and you go rest for a while, okay?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if she keeps crying,” Kyle said, but he was handing her over anyway.

Miraculously, as soon as she was handed over to Stan, the little girl started to calm down, merely softly whining as she looked up at Stan’s face. He smiled down at her uncertainly, trying to act like he knew what he was doing, despite the fact that his experience holding babies was almost nonexistent.

“Oh, you little brat,” Kyle sneered, looking at the baby with contempt. “I see how it is.” Okay, so maybe the passion that Kyle always had was just being smothered a little, since it was obviously still there. With that, Kyle turned to head upstairs.

“What if she starts crying again?” Stan asked nervously, trying to hold the baby so she wouldn’t slide out of his grasp.

“Then I’ll hear it and wake up. Come get me in an hour?” Kyle asked, climbing each step as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Stan nodded robotically and watched Kyle slink up the stairs. Despite his snippy tone, Kyle seemed more grateful for this small act than he ever had in his life.

As soon as he heard the door shut upstairs, Stan realized that he had no idea who this baby was or what her name was. He looked down at her to see her looking back up at him, seemingly amazed at what she saw. Her cheeks and eyes were pink and blotchy from crying, but other than that, she was pretty cute. Her eyes were bright and a grey green color, and she had a few teeth poking out of her gums. Her hair was just as curly and bright as Kyle’s, pulled into a little ponytail on the side of her head, probably just to keep it out of her face.

Stan, unsure of what to do, went over to the couch and sat down, just inspecting the child in his arms. She gurgled at him, making a few almost-word sounds, and she stared at him expectantly.

“Um. Hi?” he replied, feeling stupid. He wished he knew her name. Even if he knew her name, though, he would probably still feel like a total moron.

She blew a raspberry at him, and he laughed. There wasn’t much he could do, so he started to talk to her about nothing. He started off by telling her about himself, but eventually he moved on to tell her all the things that Kyle missed, feeling angry and hurt as he did so. After a little while, she became fussy, and, unsure of what to do, he lifted her up and started singing to her.

He slowly moved about the room, swaying from side to side in a gentle dance, singing old ballads from the 1940s. His voice was shaky and uncertain, but she seemed to love it, cooing at him before settling down.

Singing softly and dancing with the baby is how Sheila Broflovski found him as she walked through the front door. “Oh, Stanley, I didn’t expect you to be here!” Stan flinched at the volume of her voice and immediately stopped singing, feeling embarrassed and foolish. He seemed to be feeling that a lot tonight.

Stan turned to her sheepishly, cradling the almost sleeping baby to his chest. Sheila’s expression softened as she saw him, smiling knowingly at the scene before her.

“Don’t stop, dear. You’ve got a lovely voice,” Sheila complemented, putting her coat away. “I tend to just send her into fits when I try to sing, but Kyle manages to at least hold a tune.” She seemed to laugh at herself, amused by the family’s apparent lack of musical talent.

Opening his mouth, Stan started to say something, but was interrupted by Sheila saying, a little too loudly for Stan’s ears, “Now, where on earth _is_ Kyle?”

“He’s, um, taking a nap? I’m sorry, Mrs. Broflovski, but I’m just really confused right now. Who is this baby?” Stan asked, lifting the girl in his arms just a little bit. She adjusted herself in his grasp, squirming a little to get comfortable.

“Didn’t that boy explain anything?” Sheila asked, annoyed, and Stan shook his head for an answer. She sighed deeply, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. “Well, I really think Kyle should tell you what’s going on, but her name is Adina.”

At hearing her name, Adina seemed to stir a little bit, before falling back into a sleepy trance. Stan rocked her lightly as Sheila stormed up the stairs. He heard Kyle’s door open up, followed by an irate Sheila Broflovski starting into a screaming fit. Kyle could be heard tumbling out of bed, and falling roughly on the floor, blubbering some mangled sentences at his mother. The only thing Stan was able to catch Kyle saying was “Adina” and “Where is she?”

Kyle practically flew down the stairs, nearly tripping over legs that were too long for anyone, but he managed to right himself before crashing his face into the floor. He stopped to look at Stan, relief washing over his entire being. “Thank God, I thought I just imagined you coming over,” Kyle said by way of explanation.

Exasperated, Stan blurted out, “Will you please explain what the fuck is going on?” Kyle seemed to flinch at the curse, but didn’t comment on it. Surprisingly, Adina didn’t even react to Stan’s outburst.

Kyle walked over to Stan and plucked the baby from his arms, looking like a natural. He met Stan’s eyes, his expression pained and nervous. “Well, Adina here… Um, I guess I’m her father.”

Even though Stan had been guessing as much (it was hard not to, with all the evidence to suggest it), the answer still stunned him into silence. On revealing this piece of information, Kyle looked defeated, choosing to close his eyes and pull Adina closer. Kyle was split open; he hadn’t shown this level of vulnerability since elementary school, and he looked as though he was already beaten as he held onto his daughter like she was his last lifeline.

Finally catching his breath, Stan looked around, as if he were looking for someone who might be listening in on their conversation, and he whispered, “But… how? When did this happen?”

Kyle looked uncomfortable and pulled his gaze from Stan’s, taking a few seconds to formulate his words. Finally, he ground out, “How does this ever happen? I had sex, she wasn’t on birth control and the condom broke. Adina was born about 10 months ago.” His voice was devoid of humor, and he wouldn’t look at anything but the edge of the coffee table.

“Where’s her mom?”

Kyle’s gaze hardened. “She’s not around anymore.”

Stan knew he wasn’t going to get any more information through that line of questioning, so he stopped for a moment. They stood in awkward silence, Stan looking at Kyle fiercely and Kyle looking anywhere but Stan.

“Dude,” Stan started, sounding pained, “is this why you stopped talking to me? To everyone?”

Kyle closed his eyes, his brows furrowing in shame. Thankfully, Adina was still quiet in his arms. Kyle nodded, almost imperceptibly, and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m so sorry, Stan.”

“But why couldn’t you just tell me?”

Kyle shifted his weight, adjusting his feet and biting his teeth. “I… I was afraid. And ashamed.”

“You’re ashamed of your daughter?” Stan accused. “That’s fucked up.”

“No!” Kyle said, a little too loudly, sending Adina into a small fuss. Kyle absentmindedly bounced her to get her to calm down. Adjusting his volume to a whisper, he said, “I could never be ashamed of Adina. I’m ashamed that I fucked up so badly, and now Adina has to suffer for it.”

Stan let out a breath. “Dude, I wouldn’t have cared if you fucked up. I would have helped.”

“…I know.”

Stan could tell that Kyle was afraid. Afraid of rejection or afraid of something else, Stan wasn’t sure which, but he found himself forgiving Kyle all too easily. He was still pissed, but now half of that was directed at himself for not staying mad at Kyle. But, like usual, he could never stay mad at Kyle.

Stan composed himself and said, “Kyle, do you want to, uh… go get some McDonalds?”

Whatever Kyle had been expecting Stan to say, it wasn’t that. Slowly, Kyle’s expression melted to one of amusement, laughing a little. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Stan waited for Kyle to get ready, which consisted less of Kyle trying to look presentable (he didn’t even change out of his stained university sweatpants) and more of him getting various baby things for Adina. He grabbed a duck-patterned diaper bag from the table (Stan tried to tease Kyle about it but Kyle thought it was adorable), and bundled Adina up in the most layers that could possibly fit on her. It was barely freezing, but Kyle wasn’t taking any chances.

Stan drove, but they took Kyle’s car, since it had a car seat for Adina already set up in it. Kyle’s car was an old, shitty 1986 Chrysler New Yorker; a black car with red plush seats that were littered with bits of food crumbs. Stan turned the key in the ignition, wincing at the strange noises it made as it started up. Kyle muttered “be careful” under his breath, as if Stan didn’t already know to be extra careful in this deathtrap on wheels.

The nearest McDonald’s wasn’t too far away, only a five-minute drive, but those five minutes seemed to last an eternity. Things were still tense between Stan and Kyle, and the babbling of Adina in the backseat wasn’t helping to relieve the tension. 

There were a lot of things that were going unsaid as they drove, but they both knew that they couldn’t cover it all in the time it took to get to McDonald’s.

Stan parked far away from anyone else, not that there were a ton of people there at the moment. The two of them walked into the entrance of the fast food joint, but as soon as Stan stepped into the main lobby of the store, Kyle yanked him over behind the dividing wall, seemingly hiding from someone.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Stan hissed, giving Kyle a dirty look.

Quickly, Kyle pulled his hood up and tightened the strings, hiding all of his hair and part of his face. “Didn’t you see who’s cashiering?” Kyle whispered, looking frantic.

Stan looked around the corner to get a quick look at who was manning the cash register. Kenny McCormick. Stan had forgotten he worked here. Stan almost never came inside a McDonalds, so it was easy to forget.

“It’s just Kenny,” Stan mumbled, confused.

“Exactly! I don’t want him to see me! I don’t want anyone I know to know that I’m back!” _Or that I’m a father_ , went unspoken, but both Kyle and Stan knew that’s what was being implied here.

Stan could see why Kyle was upset about being back in his hometown after knocking some girl up. Out of all of them, Kyle was the smart one. He was the one who was going places. He was going to university, when almost all the other kids who decided on higher education went to the community college, Stan included. Wendy had gone to an out of state college, getting a pretty large scholarship, and Token was wealthy enough to go anywhere he wanted for school, which he did. Kyle, on the other hand, got into pretty much every college he applied to, but received a full ride scholarship through Denver University. There was no way he could turn that down.

Kyle was going to make something of himself. If anyone was going to knock up some chick, it was going to be Kenny. Next? Stan. Everyone expected Kenny to be stupid (which was far from the truth, but being poor carries some stereotypes), and Stan had been popular. Even Cartman was more likely to get a girl pregnant, if the girl got drunk enough.

No one would have ever expected Kyle to be the first one to father a child. But here they were, two young men dragging around a fussy baby, one looking like he was about to drop from exhaustion and the other confused as fuck, hiding from their other best friend inside of a McDonald’s. 

Stan sighed and looked into Kyle’s pleading eyes. “I’ll order for us, then we can leave out the other door,” Stan suggested, pointing to the door directly behind them. It was in the view of the cash register, but Kyle would be able to hide his face if he maneuvered right.

Kyle nodded in agreement and told Stan what he wanted, even though Stan already knew what the order was. It was always the same, ever since Stan could remember: a Filet-O-Fish with fries and mayo and a strawberry shake. Stan thought it was gross.

Up at the counter, he greeted Kenny, who was overly happy to see him. “Hey Stan! Haven’t seen you in here in a while. How’s it going?”

“Good,” Stan lied, putting on his best smile for Kenny. “I need some food and then I gotta get out of here.”

Kenny’s cheerful expression drooped. “You’re not gonna stick around and keep me company?”

“Sorry, dude, I’ve got things I have to do,” Stan apologized, hoping that Kenny wouldn’t ask _what_ he had to do. Stan was a pretty shitty liar.

Stan placed the order (a McNugget Happy Meal for Adina, Kyle’s usual, and a chicken wrap for himself), and Kenny gave Stan a strange look. When Kenny didn’t move to finish the order, Stan tentatively asked, “What? Is something wrong?”

“Is Kyle here or something?”

 _Shit._ Kyle _always_ orders the same goddamn thing; of course Kenny would know what Kyle was getting. Kenny had been on the receiving end of those orders plenty of times.

Stan looked a little guilty, but he fabricated a story on the spot, saying, “Nah, I’m just feeling a little nostalgic is all. I thought I’d try the combination myself.”

Kenny gave Stan a skeptical look, but finished the order. “Have you heard from Kyle at all?” Kenny asked innocently.

Stan grimaced. This was going to be a long couple minutes while he waited for the food. “No, I haven’t,” Stan sighed, having enough sense to sound depressed enough about it.

“Maybe sometime we should go see him or something. Show up and demand an explanation, yeah?” Kenny suggested, looking amused at the idea.

Stan laughed a little. “I don’t know if that’ll work so well, Ken. We don’t know his class schedule and we don’t even know where he’s living.” That wasn’t a complete lie. Stan hadn’t known where Kyle was living when he was in Denver. Stan never went to visit, it was always Kyle who came to South Park.

“I’ve got ways of finding people.”

The way that Kenny spoke made Stan shudder. “If Kyle wants us to talk to him, I’d rather let him come to us first. He’s the one being a dick.” Stan was relieved that he was still holding the right amount of bitterness about the situation, even if he did understand why Kyle felt like he had to do what he did.

Kenny was about to respond, but the food was ready. Kenny asked what toy he wanted in the happy meal, and Stan got the ones for the youngest age group. Kenny looked confused, but complied and didn’t ask questions. Stan thanked him and headed out the back way, not seeing Kyle or Adina on his way out. He made it to the car to find Kyle with Adina on his lap, opening up a bottle of some flavor of baby food.

“Do you like peas?” Kyle asked as Stan opened the door. He dipped the spoon into the jar.

“Not really, no,” Stan replied, slipping into the driver’s side and pulling out various foodstuffs.

“I wasn’t talking to you, stupid,” Kyle said, looking at his baby with a frown. “Was I? No, I wasn’t. Now, Adina, do you like peas?”

“I got her a Happy Meal,” Stan said, mildly offended that Kyle would go ahead and feed her.

Kyle looked incredulous. “She can barely eat solid food! What makes you think she can handle a happy meal? She’s got, like, 5 teeth!” Stan felt stupid.

“Sorry.”

“Ugh, it’s fine. You don’t know. Don’t get all depressed on me,” Kyle said, spooning another mouthful of peas into Adina’s mouth. She didn’t really look like she liked peas.

“I think I have every right to be depressed! You show up out of nowhere with hardly an excuse as to why you completely cut me and everyone else out of your life! You haven’t even told me anything about what happened! And you know, you should change up your order sometime! Kenny guessed that you were here.” Stan fumed behind the wheel, pulling out his chicken wrap and taking a large bite out of it.

Kyle sighed and put away Adina’s food, wiping off her face a little. “I know. I’ve been a real piece of work lately.” Stan didn’t bother to mention that ‘lately’ was the past year and a half. Kyle took that moment to dip a French fry into the mayo before popping it in his mouth. “I just… I didn’t want you guys to know. I messed up big time. I don’t regret it, and I love Adina more than anything I’ve ever loved in my life,” Kyle kissed Adina on the forehead and Stan found himself feeling _something_ at seeing Kyle being so affectionate, “but I was supposed to be perfect. I was going to school, getting good grades, getting a degree and I was going to get a career. I had a girlfriend and a shitty apartment, and it wasn’t spectacular but it was home. But then I fucked up. And I keep fucking up.”

Kyle paused, pulling Adina close to him and stroking her hair gently. “And the one who suffers the most is this little girl right here. Don’t you, bubbeleh?” Stan snorted at the nickname, and Kyle couldn't help but smile a little too. “You might have guessed, I live with my mom and dad again.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured,” Stan provided, smiling gently.

“I especially didn’t want you to know.” At this, Kyle made eye contact with Stan, baring his soul to his best friend. “Well, okay, I really don’t want Cartman to know because he’s a terrible fatass who will just rag on Adina for being just as Jewish as me, but out of the people who are actually important, I didn’t want you to know. You seemed so proud of me, all the time, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Kyle looked as though he was going to cry, fat tears welling up at the bottom of his eyes. Stan gripped his stupid chicken wrap tighter, almost destroying it. “Kyle,” Stan said, his voice cracking embarrassingly half way through his name, just like it did when they were kids. “I will always be proud of you. And look at you! You’re doing an amazing job of raising her. She’s, like, healthy and shit.” Stan didn’t really know how to compliment babies.

Kyle laughed and wiped his eyes. “Thanks, dude. It’s just hard, you know? Thank God for my mom, or else I wouldn’t be able to even hold a job or keep going to school.”

“Wait, you’re still going to school?” Stan’s eyes widened. “Do you mean at the community college?”

Kyle winced and smiled a little. “No… No, I’m still going to Denver.”

“Jesus Christ, dude! That’s an hour and a half away!” Kyle nodded in affirmation. “Are you seriously telling me that you drive an hour and a half just to get to class?”

“Yeah. I have to. Denver is the only place that gave me a full ride. I can’t afford to lose that. No bank will give me a loan,” Kyle said, choosing that moment to stuff his mouth full of mayonnaise covered fries to cover up the fact that he was about to break down.

Stan looked on in sympathy. “No wonder you look like you’re at death’s door.”

Kyle barked out a laugh, surprising Adina in his lap. “I feel like it,” Kyle muttered, the smirk on his face still present.

Stan reached across the parking brake to place a hand on Kyle’s arm, trying to make it seem reassuring and not as awkward as he felt. Kyle smiled and placed a hand over Stan’s, gripping onto him like he was the only person on earth.

After a few moments, Kyle broke the silence with, “I missed you, dude.”

Stan found himself putting his heart into his reply. “I missed you, too. So much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Song: [Misguided Ghosts](http://youtu.be/9u_Zse5YNmY) \- Paramore


	2. ‘The Door is Ajar’ Does Not Actually Mean the Door is a Jar

### Chapter 2: ‘The Door is Ajar’ Does Not Actually Mean the Door is a Jar

Kyle Broflovski sat at his desk, his hands flitting over various papers and texts that littered the worn wood that had been his study area for years. He was doing decent in his classes; not as ahead of the game as he’d like to be, but if he kept up his pace he would have no worries about falling behind come finals. Next to him, his laptop was open to play classical music. He wasn’t much of a classical music guy, but with Adina in the room, he wasn’t going to start listening to his usual choice of study music, nor was he going to play “This Old Man” for her 50 times in a row while he was trying to concentrate. He tried that once. His essay ended up rhyming in loose couplets and using the phrase “paddy-wack” seven times.

Adina sat on the floor behind him, playing with some blocks and making little noises. Once in a while she’d scoot across the floor to get a different toy, not bothering to adjust herself to crawl but instead just using her legs to pull herself forward while she was still sitting up. It was the weirdest thing to watch, this tiny girl with an explosion of red hair sliding across the floor using only the force of her feet. The first time she did it, Kyle nearly choked from laughing so hard.

His phone buzzed on the desk, and he grabbed it, not even bothering to look away from his essay. Only once his phone was directly in front of his face did he bother to shift his focus to the device in his hand. It was a text from Stan. _Yo can i come over?_

Furrowing his brow, he shot back a quick reply. _I’m kind of busy right now. Homework. I’m free on Fridays._

Just as Kyle set his phone back down on his desk, it buzzed again, and he let out a frustrated grunt. _I want 2 come over n e way._ Kyle pursed his lips, knowing Stan was only typing like that to be annoying.

_It’s pretty boring. I’m just doing an essay._ Kyle didn’t bother putting down his phone this time, knowing Stan would reply in a few seconds again.

Kyle was right. His phone buzzed with another text from Stan. _I won’t bug you i promise. Me and adina can hang_

Kyle replied back. _Fine. Get over here._

_be there in 10._

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes to relieve them of some stress. It was only a few days ago that Stan had found him in the grocery store. Kyle knew he wasn’t forgiven yet, but Stan was making extra effort to hang out now. It made him feel guilty, since he hadn’t been spending quite as much effort trying to get their friendship back on track as Stan had.

Kyle had his reasons, though. He drove three hours to and from Denver for his classes (Monday through Thursday) and spent his weekends working. Then there was that _father_ thing that he was doing, which took up all of the rest of his time. He was surprised that he was able to even get homework done.

Stretching a little, Kyle stood and smelled his clothes. He smelled like body odor. Gross.

He tossed off his sweatshirt and undershirt and traded it for a cleaner tee shirt. Checking first to make sure that Adina wasn’t going to get into any trouble, he headed to the bathroom to make himself look at least _somewhat_ presentable.

While brushing his teeth, he took a look at his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t really think he looked that much different than he did when he first started college. His face seemed a little longer, and his hair was a little messier. He looked like he was still a gangly 17 year old, rather than a filled-out 21 year old. But then Kyle would catch his own gaze in the mirror and see how much older he really seemed. Granted, the gigantic bags from working so hard didn’t really help him keep a ‘youthful appearance’.

Washing his face, he took one last look. Kyle Broflovski. 21 years old. College junior. Father.

He walked out of the bathroom and into his own bedroom. Adina babbled incoherently and he knelt down in front of her, ruffling her hair a little and smiling.

Just as Kyle started to build a tower of blocks for Adina, he heard the doorbell ringing downstairs. He grimaced a little as he realized that Stan didn’t feel comfortable just walking into the house unannounced anymore. That was his fault, he knew. Kyle picked up Adina and headed out of the room, reaching the stairs in time to see his mother opening the door for Stan. He waited at the top, not willing to make his presence known just yet.

“Oh, Stanley! What a surprise! It’s good to see you again,” Sheila exclaimed, sounding truly pleased. Kyle wasn’t surprised. His mom loved all of his friends. Except Cartman. But he wasn’t a friend anyway.

“Hi, Mrs. B. You look very nice today,” Stan greeted, smiling brightly. Kyle raised an eyebrow from his position on the stairs. Stan was laying it on a bit thick, but it _had_ been a while since those two had been able to greet each other properly. Stan wasn’t lying. Being a grandmother was very befitting to Sheila; she had been practically glowing since Kyle brought Adina home.

“Thank you, Stan. You look… um… exactly the same,” Sheila noted, looking over his brown coat and poof-ball hat. The only thing Kyle could really see different about Stan was the stubble that he had neglected to shave this morning.

“Uh, thanks?”

“Is… that the same hat you’ve had since elementary school?”

Stan cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away and muttering something that Kyle couldn’t hear from the stairs.

Sheila was struggling to keep up the conversation without sounding condescending. “Well, it’s… a _very nice_ look. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it… right?”

Kyle decided that this had gone on long enough. He cleared his throat from the top of the stairs and started his descent, cradling Adina against his side using one arm. His mother and Stan took notice, and he sent out a greeting to both of them as he reached the landing.

“Ma, stop bothering him,” Kyle scolded, adjusting Adina as he walked toward them.

Sheila looked offended and said, “I’m not bothering him, I just think it’s… interesting that he hasn’t changed his look at all in 15 years.”

Kyle smirked and laughed out, “It’s not his fault that he’s got no fashion sense.” Stan barked out a rebuttal, but Kyle just smirked at Stan, letting him know he was teasing.

After Stan calmed down, Kyle told his mother that Stan was going to hang out with him upstairs, and Sheila offered to let Stan stay for dinner. He accepted, and Kyle led them upstairs in silence.

“Well, here it is,” Kyle said as they walked into the room, spreading his free arm to show it off like a realtor showing a house. Some of it was new; there was a crib and various baby furnishings shoved into the room. A few toys were scattered across the floor, but for the most part, the room was the same. Kyle still had his dorky posters up, like the Einstein one and another poster related to the Jew Scouts that Kyle took part in for a large part of his school career. Kyle set Adina down on the floor and moved back over to his desk, plugging in headphones so he could listen to something different.

“I’ve got to get this essay finished, so I’m not going to be really much of a host,” Kyle explained. “Sorry.”

Stan shook his head and sat down with Adina, shrugging off his backpack and jacket. “I told you I’d be fine with that. I can just chill with Adina.”

“Babies don’t really ‘chill’, but thanks for being understanding, man.”

Kyle turned toward his essay, focusing completely on doing his homework rather than paying attention to what was happening behind him.

The three of them stayed there for a while, Kyle working on his homework and Adina and Stan playing with Adina’s various toys. Once in a while, Stan would make a comment to Kyle, but for the most part the room was enveloped in a comfortable silence broken only by Adina’s babbling and Kyle’s feet tapping to the beat of whatever he was listening to.

Kyle had been working for quite a while by the time he pulled off his headphones to take a break. He stretched, his back popping as he did so, and turned his chair to look at Stan and Adina on the floor. Stan was sitting against Kyle’s bed, playing a video game, and Adina was sitting in the space between his legs, starting to fall asleep, jolting awake each time she started to fall over.

Smiling a little, Kyle said, “She should probably get put down for a nap.” Stan looked down and laughed a little, jolting Adina awake once more, but she quickly started to sway again. Kyle rose from his chair and picked Adina up from her spot and moved her over to her crib, laying her down on her back and putting a thin blanket over her.

Kyle rubbed his eyes and yawned, moving over to his own bed and flopping onto it face first, burying his head in the sheets.

“Tired?” Stan asked, rising from his place on the floor. Kyle just nodded into the mattress, not shifting to look as Stan moved to sit on the foot of the bed, basically crushing Kyle’s legs underneath him. Kyle groaned in protest but Stan didn’t move, laughing a little as Kyle tried to kick him off.

Stan then went quiet, looking at Kyle’s mess of red hair, and breathed in slightly before saying, “So, Adina. You said she was 10 months old?”

Kyle turned his face to look at Stan, awkwardly craning his neck over his shoulder. “Well, more like 11 now. Her birthday is in January. We’ll probably just have cake or something. You should come over.”

Stan nodded slowly, taking in the information, then said, “Yeah, okay. That sounds cool.”

Kyle yawned and managed to flip himself over, his legs still trapped awkwardly underneath Stan. An uncomfortable silence descended on the room, the weight of what was being unsaid falling like a heavy quilt over the both of them. Stan moved back, letting his legs lay over Kyle’s gently instead of completely crushing his feet.

“Do I know who it was?” Stan asked. Kyle gave him a confused look.

“Who what was?”

“The girl you knocked up.” Kyle flinched slightly at the choice of words and looked away. “Do I know her?”

There was a long pause before Kyle said, “Yeah. You know her.”

“Are you still going to refuse to tell me?”

Kyle turned back over to lay on his stomach, hugging a pillow to his face. “There’s still a lot that I have to figure out. I can’t… There was…” Kyle struggled to find the words he wanted, his false starts causing him to become more frustrated. “It was a really awful situation, okay? I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”

“Does your mom know about it?”

“Yeah. But she was directly involved. The rest of the family knows because of her, but I haven’t talked to them individually about it,” Kyle explained, his brows furrowed into a pained expression. “I promise, you’ll find out. You’re, like… Uh, well… Look.” Kyle sat up, turning to face Stan straight on. Stan blinked, surprised to be staring into Kyle’s passionate eyes, but kept his expression straight.

“You,” Kyle started, fisting his hands into his grungy sweatpants, “are one of the most important people in my life. I know I’ve been a real shitty friend for the last… well… A little over a year by now.”

“Year and a half.”

“Okay I’ve been a shitty friend for, like, a year and a half. But you’ve always been my best friend. I… When I’m ready to talk, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Why have you been hiding her, though? Adina, I mean. You haven’t told anyone. Dude, when you stopped talking to us – to me and Kenny and everyone – it really… it really sucked, okay?” Stan looked down at his lap, biting his lip, thinking about his next words. “Kyle, I… I cried over that.” Kyle’s stunned silence told Stan that he had gotten his point across.

“Stan… Jesus, I didn’t mean… Fuck. I’m sorry. I was only thinking about me and Adina,” Kyle explained, looking down to his hands, which still curled into a white-knuckled grip around the fabric of his clothes. “I was afraid to face everyone after… after Adina was born. Especially here in South Park. In Denver it was okay. I didn’t know those people – I didn’t grow up with them. But here… Things get around, you know?” He looked up at this, meeting Stan’s eyes. “I really just wanted Adina to be free of their judgments for a while. Just for a bit, I want her to be just a little girl, not ‘the motherless child of that gangly Jewish kid who barely graduated high school before getting some chick pregnant.’”

“They won’t think that…”

“You know they will, Stan. We grew up with those people. That’s what they’re gonna think. That’s what you’d think if it were anyone else. You yourself said ‘who was the chick you knocked up?’” Kyle argued, his gaze hardening.

Stan had no response to that, other than meeting Kyle’s eyes and frowning a little. “I still don’t get why you couldn’t trust me with this,” Stan mumbled, suddenly feeling shy.

Kyle glanced down. “Because I let you down.”

What he meant by that, Stan wasn’t quite sure, but he let it drop. Instead, Stan asked, “So what are you going to do?”

“Right now? I’ve got to focus on taking care of Adina.” Kyle said this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. His expression softened and his fists relaxed a little, releasing some of the fabric they had previously crushed.

“But, Kyle, what about you? You need to focus on taking care of yourself, too.” Stan said.

Kyle looked shocked for a second before laughing a little. “Dude, that’s ironic coming from you.”

Stan glared and playfully pushed Kyle’s shoulder, knocking him off balance for a moment. “How is that ironic?”

“You can’t even keep your lunch down whenever some cute girl comes up to you, and you’ve been wearing the same clothes since Kindergarten. You shouldn’t be telling me to take care of myself,” Kyle argued, pushing back a little.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Stan asked, using his feet to knock Kyle over.

“Ew, get those away from me!” Kyle barked, shoving Stan’s feet off of him and pulling Stan down on the bed. Stan countered by pressing his hand against Kyle’s face, shoving his head into a pillow.

Kyle hooked his leg around, catching Stan by the stomach and pushing him back onto the bed. Gaining the upper hand, Kyle pulled Stan into a headlock, ruffling up his hair until Stan shoved Kyle off.

“That’s it, you’ve done it now,” Stan warned, grinning and tackling Kyle, pinching his sides roughly. Immediately, Kyle started laughing, trying to push his attacker off. Stan kept up his assault, laughing in amusement at Kyle’s so-called suffering.

“Stop it! I surrender!” Kyle yelled through his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. Stan let up, poking Kyle’s sides just a few times for good measure, and stayed where he was, using his own body to keep Kyle from escaping.

As Kyle’s laughter died down, Stan said, “If you’re not going to take care of yourself, I’ll have to, okay? You focus on Adina and school, I’ll make sure you don’t become boring.”

Kyle smiled at Stan. A real smile, something that almost felt foreign on his face. Kyle realized that he hadn’t smiled like that since he moved back home. Maybe even before that.

“Yeah, dude. I’d like that,” Kyle said, still catching his breath.

Just as Stan was going to say more, someone knocked at the door roughly before letting themselves in.

“Kyle, mom says that dinner is… uh.” Ike stood in the doorway, his black eyes staring at the two of them in confusion.

“…Hello Ike,” Stan said, waving a little in greeting.

“Hi Stan. It’s been a while. Why are you straddling my brother?” The Broflovski boys were never ones for subtlety.

Stan looked down at Kyle before looking back to Ike, his eyes wide and face flushed. Before Stan could stammer out an excuse, Kyle piped up, saying, “Stan said he wanted to show me how to take care of myself.”

Ike’s eyebrows raised and Stan seemed to be stumbling over his own tongue before blurting out, “I didn’t say that!”

“You said, and I quote, that if I’m not going to take care of myself, then you’ll have to.” Kyle smirked a little, and Stan shouted out denials, taking a pillow from the side of the bed and hitting Kyle with it.

Ike cleared his throat once more, getting Stan to stop his attack and Kyle to stop laughing so much, and said, “Look, whatever you were doing, I don’t really care, but if you don’t get down to dinner soon, mom will get on your case.”

Kyle grimaced. “Eugh, no one wants that. We’ll be down in a minute.” As soon as Ike shuffled away, Kyle pressed a hand to Stan’s chest, gently pushing the other boy off. “Time for dinner, dude,” Kyle chided, smiling lightly.

Stan was still pouting on the bed as Kyle cleared a few things and woke Adina up from her nap. Before leaving the room, Kyle turned to Stan and said, “Hey… Thanks for coming over. I needed this.”

Stan looked up at Kyle, his eyes wide from surprise. And just for a second as he stood there in the doorway, he saw the Kyle he had always known.

\- - -

December arrived without fanfare. Christmas decorations started to appear, and in one household, Hanukkah accessories began to adorn the halls.

Kyle lay on the couch, Adina crawling over his stomach and a phone pressed to his ear. “I can’t really hang out this week, okay? It’s Hanukkah and it’s overlapping with finals,” Kyle sighed into the phone, sounding particularly worn.

“Let me at least do something for you for Hanukkah then,” Stan’s voice pressed. He sounded scratchy and slightly metallic through the phone.

“Dude, no. You don’t have to do anything for me, okay?” Kyle argued, taking on an angry edge. Adina looked on curiously, then lay face down on Kyle’s chest, pressing her ear to his ribcage.

“I want to! Jesus, Kyle, it’s like you don’t want anyone to show you kindness.”

Kyle sucked on his teeth, thinking for a moment. “I just don’t want you to go out of your way to do something for me.”

“Kyle! Seriously! I am _trying_ to be your friend here, but you’re making it really difficult.” Stan had taken on an annoyed tone, and Kyle was thankful that they were having this discussion over the phone, rather than in person.

“Okay, okay! You can do something for me for Hanukkah,” Kyle conceded, resting his free hand in Adina’s hair and playing with the curls that sprouted there.

“Sweet. Um, you, like, get gifts and shit, right?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, knowing that Stan would be unable to see it and said, “We light candles and stuff. And eat latkes and get fat. Then me and Ike would usually get a gift for each night. I think I’m a little too old for gifts, though, since I’m… a dad and stuff.” Kyle trailed off for a moment and then said, “If you want to get something for Adina, that would be fine. I don’t need anything.”

“No way, I’m not leaving you out of this. But I don’t know if I’ll get you a gift, I might just do something for you instead. I’m poor,” Stan said, and Kyle laughed, which made Adina giggle a little from her perch on his stomach.

“That’s fine. The gifts aren’t usually that important anyway,” Kyle explained.

“When’s the first night?”

“Two days from now.”

“Hmm, okay. I’ll figure something out,” Stan said, trailing off for a minute before continuing with, “I better go. I’ve gotta get to work soon.”

“Stan, it’s almost seven.”

“Yeah, I got night shifts. See ya!”

Stan hung up before Kyle could mumble out a half-hearted ‘see ya’ back. He sighed and dropped his iPhone on the carpet next to the couch, looking down at Adina thoughtfully. “Do I make it hard for people to be my friend?” Adina, almost sensing that she was being talked to, looked up to lock eyes with Kyle. She blinked.

“Stan says I don’t want people to show me kindness,” Kyle continued, biting his lip a little in contemplation. “But I don’t think that’s true. Do you?”

Adina had no response but to take her index finger and thumb and pick at the fabric of Kyle’s shirt.

“You are not actually helping me out, here.”

A voice from the kitchen rang out, saying, “Bubbeleh, are you talking to Adina like an adult again?”

“…Yeah.”

“She doesn’t understand, sweetie. Stop trying to get advice from her.”

“She understands fine, Ma!” Kyle argued. He then turned back to Adina and said, “Besides, even if you don’t have anything good to say, you like it when I talk to you… Right?”

Just when Kyle thought he was going to get a reaction out of his daughter, she spit up on his shirt.

\- - -

Hanukkah was okay, but it wasn’t one of Kyle’s favorite holidays. He didn’t _dislike_ it, but for Kyle, it didn’t hold the same magic that Christmas did. This is why Kyle wasn’t upset when Stan didn’t show up with a present on the first day of Hanukkah. Or when he didn’t show up on the second day. Or even the third. Kyle had managed to get Adina a gift for each night, pooling all of the extra money he had saved up from his job to get her a little something for her to play with. They weren’t much, just cheap little toys that she wouldn’t choke on if she stuck them in her mouth, but he was happy to be able to get her something for each day.

By the fourth night of Hanukkah, Kyle had finally finished his finals, and was able to relax for a few days. And he did.

Kyle hadn’t seen Stan all week. He hadn’t completely disappeared – Stan had sent a “happy _n_ th day of Hanukkah” text every day (managing to spell the holiday wrong in a different way every time) – but he didn’t actually show his face until the last day.

Kyle opened the door, blinking in surprise as he looked at Stan on his doorstep. He held a gift bag in his hand, decorated outrageously with silver menorahs and at least 50 Star of Davids on just one side, and his face held the stupidest grin that Kyle had ever seen. At least he had shaved.

“Hey! Happy Hanukkah!” Stan greeted, bunching his coat around his neck to keep himself warm.

“Yeah. Happy Hanukkah,” Kyle said flatly, smirking slightly at Stan’s exuberance.

“Um, can I come in? It’s kinda cold out here.”

Kyle stood aside, apologizing halfheartedly, and Stan shuffled in, brushing his boots off on the entryway rug. He kicked off his footwear and held up the bag to Kyle, saying, “This is for Adina.”

“Then go give it to her,” Kyle said, amused.

Stan blinked once and looked over to the rest of the living area, where Ike was showing Adina the dreidel. “Well, alright.”

Kyle followed Stan over to the couch and stood watching as Stan sat next to Ike and Adina, pulling the bag up to the baby and saying, “Uh, I got her a gift.”

Ike bounced Adina on his knee and said, “Hear that, Knish? Stan got you a gift for Hanukkah.”

“…Knish?” Stan looked back at Kyle, his eyebrows bunching together in confusion.

Kyle scoffed and folded his arms. “Ike _insists_ on calling her stupid names,” Kyle explained, his lips pressing together in annoyance.

“They’re not stupid! They’re cute! She’s like a little dumpling. And at least I don’t talk to her like she’s as old as I am,” Ike shot back, sticking out his tongue in retaliation.

“Does he really do that?” Stan asked.

Ike nodded. “Yeah, it’s really weird.”

“I don’t do that! Adina, tell them I don’t do that,” Kyle said indignantly, pouting a little as he looked at Adina for help.

Adina looked at Kyle for a moment before laughing, clapping her hands together in amusement. Kyle’s eyes lowered to a soft glare, and he said, flatly, “You are absolutely no help.”

Stan just looked at Kyle incredulously, unable to believe how ridiculous he was being.

“What? What. It’s not weird.”

“It’s totally weird,” Ike offered.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Stan turned to pick up the gift for Adina and said, “Can we just get on with this? Oh, yeah.” Stan pulled out an envelope from inside the bag and held it out to Kyle. “This is for you. It’s from my mom.”

Kyle took the envelope quizzically and Adina grabbed for the shiny bag in front of her, tipping it over and pulling out all the tissue paper inside. Instead of looking in farther, though, she just started to rip up the tissue paper.

As Adina was preoccupied with her paper (“I should have just gotten her more of that,” Stan mused), Kyle opened up the envelope and pulled out a card. It was just as gaudy and shiny as the bag that Stan had brought over, and Kyle wondered if maybe Sharon had done the wrapping rather than Stan.

Inside the card was a note, and a check. Kyle read the note first.

_‘Kyle-_

_‘I know how hard it can be to be a parent sometimes. I know I wouldn’t have made it this far without help from my family and friends. You’re like a son to me, so it’s only fitting that I help out my family when he needs it._

_‘Love, Sharon’_

Kyle looked up at Stan, his face pale. “Dude, you told your mom?” Kyle asked, his voice weak.

Stan looked back sheepishly. “Was… that not allowed? I’m sorry, but I wasn’t gonna hide it from her. Besides, she wants to meet Adina!”

“It’s… It’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Kyle amended, looking back down to the card. It was _just_ Sharon, anyway. Sharon was wonderful. She’d be great about the whole thing. Randy on the other hand… Kyle shuddered.

Kyle moved aside the note to take a look at the check, and on seeing the number written on it, promptly dropped it.

“I can’t take this.”

“Huh?”

Stan and Ike both looked up at Kyle, who was backing away from the card like it was a venomous snake. Maybe if he moved slowly, it wouldn’t see him and attack.

“Kyle, what…” Stan started, but was interrupted by Kyle again.

“I can’t take that. It’s too much. Tell Sharon that I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that.”

Stan slipped off of the couch and crawled over to the check on the ground, muttering, “Dude, I’m sure it’s – holy shit.”

$1,000. That was the number written on the tiny slip of paper decorated with a picture of a basket of kittens. They looked so unassuming.

“Holy shit!” Stan repeated, gaping stupidly at the check. “Kyle, you’ve got to take this!” Kyle just stood with his arms outstretched, shaking his head frantically.

“Let me see!” Ike said, bounding over to Stan’s seat on the floor and peering over his shoulder. Ike accidentally copied Stan by muttering, “Holy shit.” Then, gleefully, Ike got up and yelled for his parents, running out of the room to fetch them.

Kyle was standing against the wall, covering his mouth and shaking his head as his parents rushed into the room, asking what the commotion was all about. Stan merely gave them the card and check that he was currently in possession of, letting them look at the items over themselves.

“ _Bubbeleh_ ,” Sheila began, her voice a bare whisper, “this is an amazing gift.”

Kyle’s eyes were red and he barely managed to choke out, “I can’t accept that, Ma.”

Gerald plucked the check from his wife’s fingers and walked over to Kyle, his face set to an unreadable expression. “Kyle,” he started, getting Kyle’s attention. Gerald took Kyle’s hand and held it up, placing the check into Kyle’s palm. “I’m going to give you some advice that someone once shared with me. If someone gives you money, you don’t say that you can’t accept it. You say ‘Thank you very much for the money.’”

Kyle barked out a laugh and gripped the check in his hand, wiping his eyes with his other arm.

“Man, now I feel like a dick for just getting Adina a stuffed dog and some tissue paper,” Stan said, smirking. Adina still hadn’t gotten past the tissue paper.

The rest of the evening Kyle seemed to be in a state of shock, to the point where Sheila had to take the check and put it on the mantelpiece for safe keeping since he didn’t seem to realize that he was still holding it. Stan stuck around for a while, but eventually he had to get going. He pulled Kyle aside, shaking Kyle out of whatever state of mind he had been in, and said, “Hey, I know I didn’t really get you anything, but I still have a gift of sorts for you.”

Kyle shook his head again, saying, “No way! You guys have done enough!”

“That was from my mom! My gift is taking you out for some fun tomorrow.”

Kyle studied Stan in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m gonna take you to a bar, okay? I said I’d make sure you don’t get boring, so we’re gonna go out drinking,” Stan explained, smiling a little. “I know it’s nothing compared to what my mom got you, but I don't exactly have a thousand bucks lying around. I also... couldn’t think of anything physical to get you.” The last part was mumbled.

“No, no, that sounds… that sounds really great actually.” Kyle smiled, looking more like himself and less shell-shocked.

“Oh, and Mom said she’d watch Adina for you, so your mom can have the night off,” Stan added, looking back to Adina. She had finally gotten past the tissue paper and to the stuffed dog, which she was playing with at the moment.

When Kyle finally responded, his voice was thick and deep, as if he were trying to stop himself from tearing up again, and he said, “Stan, if there’s anything I can do for you or your mom, just say the word, okay?”

Stan punched Kyle in the shoulder lightly and said, “Just be ready by eight tomorrow.”

\- - - 

Kyle was packing a bag for Adina when he heard the doorbell ring. It was ten past eight, which Kyle was not surprised about. Stan had never been very punctual. Kyle headed to the front door, only to be beaten there by Ike, who opened the door with more enthusiasm than Kyle had ever felt in his life.

“Hi Stan!” chirped Ike, bouncing out of the way to let Stan inside.

Stan looked, well, nice. He had cleaned himself up and put on a fresh shirt. And for once, he left that old hat behind.

“You look like a goth,” Kyle said.

Stan rolled his eyes. “You look like a nerd.”

He shrugged and grabbed Adina and her bag, making sure to have all the things Sharon would need to watch her, and asked, “So, where are we going?”

“Somewhere near Denver. Ehh, it’s around Conifer or something? I don’t know where it is exactly, but I know how to get to it. South Park’s bar is a little old for us… Besides, I figured you didn’t want to chance being seen by someone you knew,” Stan said, waiting near the door.

Kyle nodded and followed Stan outside, leading them to Kyle’s old car. “I’ll drive,” Stan offered as Kyle buckled Adina in the back. Kyle wasn’t going to argue. He was tired of driving to Denver.

They stopped at Stan’s house to drop off Adina with Sharon, who was absolutely ecstatic to meet her. Kyle tried to thank Sharon for her gift, but she would have none of it and shoved both boys out of the door as quickly as she could, immediately turning her attention back to the baby in her arms.

Back in the car, they sat in silence for a bit before Kyle asked, “So, why the bar? Why not a movie or something?”

Stan shrugged and responded with, “Well, I think you just need some time away from all that shit you’ve got going on.”

“You mean Adina.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well, yeah. But I mean like everything. Your job, being around family all the time, dealing with your mom, school… It’s a lot of shit. And I want to hang out with you,” Stan said, his expression softening as he spoke. “I mean we see each other a lot now, but we don’t, like, see each other.”

Kyle nodded in response and smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, dude.”

Stan smiled back and then snapped his fingers, like an idea just occurred to him. “Hey, do you still have that iPod adapter?” Kyle nodded and Stan pulled out an iPod from his pocket, careful not to swerve too much on the road. “Plug this in, it’s got a bunch of the old songs we used to listen to.”

Kyle shoved the adapter into the cassette player (it was a _really_ old car) and let Stan fiddle with the iPod. After a few moments, a familiar song started to swim out of the speakers, filling the car with sound.

“Holy shit.” As soon as Kyle let out those words, the manly voice of Cher sang the introduction of “Believe.”

Kyle gaped at Stan, who was focusing on the road and singing along as loudly as he could. And at the chorus, Kyle finally joined in.

They spent the entire car ride over to Denver like that, singing along to terrible love ballads or whatever happened to come on through the speakers. At that point, Kyle didn’t even need to go to the bar; he was feeling too good as it was.

It was another thirty minutes before they reached their destination, and by that time, Kyle was grinning like a loon. They parked near a snow bank near the edge of the lot, out of the way of most other cars, and headed toward the building, commenting on how it was so much warmer over here compared to their little mountain town, even though it was the exact same temperature. Once inside, Stan ushered them over to a place at the bar, shrugging off his coat and ordering them two beers. Kyle sat down, looking around appreciatively, taking note of the layout of the place. 

It was definitely a far cry from South Park’s bar, but it wasn’t any place fancy. The crowd was young, and there was music playing pretty loudly for people to dance to, not that Kyle was really interested in dancing. High tables and chairs were scattered around, and there were a few booths and couches spread around. It was obvious that the scene was meant for college kids to meet and hook up, but it took Kyle a lot longer to realize that _he was a college kid._ Oh.

Kyle looked over to Stan, his expression concerned, and asked, “Dude, are you trying to hook me up with someone?”

Stan stared at Kyle for a while, his beer half way to his lips, and he said, “What the fuck gave you that idea?”

“It’s just…” Kyle looked around again, scanning the crowd. There were a lot of women there. Very attractive women. Very attractive women that were obviously trying to have a little fun. “This bar seems like that type of place,” Kyle finally said, looking back at Stan.

Stan finally took a drink of his beer and set it back down on the counter. “Kyle, I’m really just trying to let you have a good time. Just let me buy you drinks and chill out for once, okay?”

“Yeah… Okay,” Kyle nodded, finally taking a sip of his beer. Then he promptly put the beer back down and made a face. “Eugh, gross.”

“Don’t like it?”

Kyle shook his head and glared at the offending drink before bringing it up to his lips again, chugging it back as quickly as possible.

“Jesus Christ! What are you doing?” Stan shouted, half laughing and half disbelieving of what he just saw.

“I didn’t like it,” Kyle said, as if that explained anything.

“So you chugged it?” Stan’s voice cracked, his surprise making him a little screechy.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to suffer through it, so I decided to get it over with,” Kyle explained.

“I could have just got you a new drink!”

“I didn’t want to waste it.”

“I could have drank it for you!”

Kyle was silent for a moment. “Oh. Well… Too late.”

Stan laughed and covered his face with his hand, shaking it a little. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Hey, I was being practical.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Kyle shoved Stan a little, laughing as he did so.

“Do you want a new drink?” Stan asked, taking another swig of his beer.

“Uh, sure? I don’t really like beer, but I guess a mixed drink would be fine…” Kyle shifted his gaze away from Stan, tapping his fingers on the countertop.

“You don’t drink out much, do you?” Stan laughed, clicking his tongue a little.

“I didn’t really get to. Adina was born before I turned 21.”

Stan went silent, looking at Kyle for a long moment. The music from the bar seemed to fade to the background as Stan examined his friend, seemingly understanding for the first time what Kyle had gotten himself into.

“You’ve never gone to a bar?” 

Kyle shook his head, giving Stan a strange look. “You’ve only been 21 for, like, a month, though. How are you some bar expert?” The tone Kyle’s voice took on was accusing, an edge there that Stan hadn’t heard since the first time Kyle found Stan passed out from drinking too much.

“Uh, well, I work at the bar in South Park. Skeeter’s bar?” Kyle blinked at Stan, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. Stan continued to explain, “I’ve been working there for a while. I got a bartending license as a way to pay for school?” He finished as though he were asking Kyle a question, nervously playing with the bottle in front of him.

“And you hadn’t told me this, why?”

“Cause I knew you’d act like this! I decided to do it cause, well, like it or not, I know drinks. And I know what people would like to drink,” Stan pleaded, finally daring to look Kyle in the eyes. Kyle wasn’t amused. “Oh, come on, I’ve got things under control. And I’m good at bartending. I can’t drink on the job anyway.”

Kyle pulled air between his teeth, making a small whistling sound, and turned back to the bar, leaning heavily on it with his elbows. “Just get me another drink, okay?”

Stan took a look at the specials, deciding to try there first. “Ever had a Bloody Mary?” Kyle shook his head. “Then you’re gonna try it.”

Stan ordered the drink and continued to try to get Kyle to lighten up, forcing conversation and telling stories that weren’t all that good.

By the time the drink came, Kyle was no longer pouting, but he was still unimpressed with Stan. Stan was about to point out that Kyle had no place being judgmental of others when suddenly Kyle took a sip of his drink and perked up a little.

“Hey, this is pretty good!” Stan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, watching Kyle sip at his drink. After a few minutes, Kyle finally turned to Stan and said, “I just worry about you with that sort of stuff.”

“I’m good at my job.”

Kyle took another sip of his drink before saying, “I can’t say that I’m exactly _glad_ to hear that, but I trust you’ve got things under control. You do, right?” Stan nodded, and Kyle sighed. “Then I guess that’s all I can say about it.”

They switched topics, talking for a while about nothing in particular, but it wasn’t until Stan realized he had just started his second beer that Kyle was on his fourth Bloody Mary. But, Kyle didn’t _seem_ that drunk. He was still talking in complete sentences and wasn’t slurring.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Kyle declared, getting up and promptly stumbling onto Stan. Nope, he was drunk.

“Kyle, do you need help?” Stan asked, setting his own drink down.

Kyle shook his head indignantly, glaring at Stan with glazed eyes. “No, I can do it. I might be… no I think I am drunk. I’m drunk, right?” Stan nodded, smirking a little. “Okay, so I’m aware enough to know I am drunk. But since I know I’m drunk, I’ll know to be careful when going to the bathroom.”

“That doesn’t actually make sense.”

“I know, but I like to pretend it does. If I don’t make it back in… Um… I can’t actually figure out how much time is passing right now, so just if I don’t come back, assume I’m dying.” Kyle patted Stan’s shoulder, half to reassure him, half for support, and stumbled off to the bathroom.

Kyle made it to the bathroom after a few false starts, and he took care of business as quickly as he could. Which was harder than it should have been. Kyle felt bad; he had terrible aim when he was drunk.

He washed his hands, standing there for about a minute before he realized that he wasn’t actually scrubbing anything off anymore. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself, and without a moment’s hesitation, he splashed himself with the icy water. It didn’t really help, but he felt like it should have.

Trying to make his way back to the bar was much more difficult than trying to get to the bathroom. It seemed as though everyone decided to get up and get in his way in the time it took him to piss. Not that he really minded. He felt pretty happy, and he was sure Stan wouldn’t mind him being a little bit slow to get back.

Somehow he ended up pressed against some girl, who was smiling up at him drunkenly. How did he get here? He wasn’t really sure, but he could tell that she was just as drunk as he was. That was okay, right? Kyle couldn’t really be sure. She was pretty, though. She had dark eyes and dark skin. Kind of reminded him of that girl in elementary school… Token dated her. For the life of him he couldn’t remember her name. Looking at this girl, though, he realized how much he wanted to kiss someone.

So he did. She kissed back. It was nice. Really nice. It was so nice that he didn’t want to stop. She was good at it, and Kyle was feeling really good. But then a part of him told him that he’d regret it if he went farther. He pulled back and said, “Sorry, I have to get back to my friend.”

She nodded, looking a little sad, and took his hand. Pulling out a pen from her back pocket, she wrote something down and said, “This is my number.” She may have said her name in there too, but Kyle hadn’t been paying attention. He still wanted to kiss, but he knew he shouldn’t. That was a bad idea. That’s what he’d normally think, at least.

Kyle stumbled back to the bar, sighing as he slipped into the seat next to Stan.

“What’s that?” Stan asked, tilting his head toward Kyle’s hand. Stan was still on his second beer. Kyle was kind of wondering why Stan wasn’t as drunk as he was, but then he figured that someone had to get them back.

“Um, it’s a girl’s number,” Kyle said, tilting his head to read it. It was kind of messy, and he knew he wasn’t going to call her back, but it was flattering either way.

“Huh. How’d you get that?” Stan sounded truly curious, but there was something in his voice that Kyle couldn't pinpoint. He was too drunk to figure out what it was.

“I kind of made out with her.”

“Dude! You slut,” Stan said, nudging Kyle with his elbow. He sounded impressed? Maybe jealous. Maybe Stan wanted to kiss some girl.

“I’m not a slut,” Kyle defended, sipping at what was left of his drink. Stan hadn’t ordered a new one. Was he going to?

Before Kyle could get swept away in his thoughts again, he felt Stan nudge him with an elbow. “Hey. Is that who I think it is?”

Kyle looked around Stan to see where he was pointing. People sort of blurred together in the distance, and it was hard to focus on one thing long enough to know what he was talking about. “Who?”

“The woman in the blue shirt. I think that’s Ms. Cartman,” Stan said, trying to look as discreet as he could. Kyle couldn’t even comprehend being discreet at the moment.

“Like, Eric Cartman’s mom?” Kyle asked. Finally, he located who Stan was pointing at. She did look an awful lot like Liane.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I think you’re right.” She was dancing with some guy half her age, and she looked pretty buzzed. But then again, the guy with her might have been pretty buzzed to be dancing with her of his own will. Or maybe Kyle only thought that because she was related to Cartman and anything related to him automatically made him want to throw up.

“God, this is too weird,” Stan muttered, still transfixed on the scene before them. “That guy is probably the same age as Cartman.”

They had been watching for a while when Kyle suddenly pulled back and turned to the counter, sitting rigidly on his chair. Stan took notice, adjusting to look at Kyle inquisitively.

“Kyle? Are you okay?”

Kyle merely shook his head. For a second, he looked like he was going to be ill, but instead he just grabbed for Stan’s beer and swallowed a mouthful.

“Kyle…?”

He looked up at Stan, and said in a dead voice, “I am Liane Cartman.”

The seriousness of his statement made Stan break out laughing, but the angry drunken glare that Kyle gave him was enough to make him hold it in. Between chuckles, Stan asked, “Why?”

“That woman out there… That is me in twenty years.” Stan still wasn’t convinced, so Kyle continued, “I am following in her footsteps. I am a single parent, and my child will never know her mother, and soon I will be scouring bars, searching for someone half my age to take home for a night, and I will end up old and alone with thirty cats!”

“Kyle…”

“I don’t even like cats!”

“Well, since you’re so similar to her, you two could get married, then–“

“ _Don’t you fucking finish that sentence._ ” Kyle glared as intensely as he could, which just turned out to look hilarious because of his inebriated status.

Stan couldn't help it, he laughed again. “Kyle, you are not anywhere close to being Liane Cartman. First of all, she probably gave her soul to Satan, since she somehow gave birth to Cartman.”

Kyle, for once, wasn’t amused by a jab at Cartman. “Second of all, she’s a terrible mom. I don’t think she even went to college.”

“But that’s just it, she still tried! She may have been completely abhorrent as a mother–” Stan was impressed that Kyle was still able to use such big words¬– “but she was still trying to do the right thing. I don’t know what I’m doing, and neither did she. And I’m going to end up just like her.”

Kyle crossed his arms on the bar and hid his face in them, moaning quietly about his future.

“Kyle,” Stan started, resting his hand on Kyle’s back and rubbing small circles into it, “you are definitely not like Liane at all. Just because you two made the same mistake, doesn’t mean you’re going to turn out like her. She’s not a smart woman, and she treated Cartman more like an undisciplined pet than a son. You don’t do that.”

Kyle’s slightly muffled voice floated up, to say, “I talk to Adina like she’s my age.”

“So that’s a little weird, but at least you talk to her like a human being. Liane always used that baby voice with Cartman,” Stan argued.

Kyle looked up and asked, “Do you really think I’m a better parent?”

Stan nodded vehemently, making Kyle smile a little. His good mood was quickly coming back, even though he could still see Ms. Cartman on the dance floor with that guy.

Stan decided that maybe it was time for them to head out. Kyle was definitely done for the night, and Stan knew that if he had more that he wouldn’t be safe to drive home. He hadn’t even finished his second beer.

He paid the tab and helped Kyle out of his chair, keeping an arm over Kyle’s shoulder to make sure he stayed upright. Stan led them outside, feeling immensely better as soon as he was able to breathe in the cool air. It had gotten pretty hot in there, and even with Kyle pressing against his side, it was much nicer once they had left the building.

“I think alcohol makes me want to kiss,” Kyle announced as he was led through the parking lot, leaning heavily on Stan.

“That happens to a lot of people,” Stan said, not really focusing on anything Kyle said at the moment.

“But it’s a bad thing. ‘Cause what if you kiss the wrong person? Then you have to live with that for the rest of your life! The wrong kiss.” Stan laughed and let Kyle stand on his own for a moment before pulling out the car keys and unlocking the door.

Kyle swayed towards the car, grabbing onto Stan’s arm tightly so he wouldn’t fall. He grimaced. “Sorry, Stan.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry I’m so drunk,” Kyle amended, straightening up to look at Stan.

Stan shook his head. “Don't apologize. I bought you those drinks. Did you have fun at least?” Stan pulled open the door.

Kyle nodded and laughed. The car chimed, triggering a feature that Kyle found annoying and hilarious all at once: it started talking. Usually it reminded passengers to buckle their seats or to not forget their keys. Right now, it was saying in a monotone voice, “A door is ajar.”

Kyle seemed to find this hilarious, laughing and using Stan’s arm for support. He mocked the car under his breath, gripping Stan’s arm and doubling over, trying his best not to collapse. He finally stood up, still smiling a little, and said, “Can I kiss you?”

Stan gaped. “What.”

Kyle shifted a little closer, his grip never leaving Stan’s arm, and said, “Can I kiss you? I want to kiss someone.”

“I thought you liked women. And I don’t… kiss guys,” Stan said, but Kyle inched closer. The car’s nagging was starting to fade to background noise.

“I do like women. But I also like kissing. Don’t you?”

Kyle’s breath was hot against Stan’s face. “Yeah… I like kissing.” He could smell the four Bloody Mary’s on Kyle’s breath.

“Then can I kiss you?”

Stan wondered for a moment how they got there, standing in a bar parking lot, talking about how drunk they were one minute and then contemplating kissing the next. In the back of his mind, he realized that the car was still talking and that was making the mood of the entire situation a little bit ridiculous. Stan gulped. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Stan nodded. Despite being three sheets to the wind, Kyle managed to see the small movement of Stan’s head.

So he pushed his lips to Stan’s, softly and carefully, as if he knew this was a bad idea, but unable to quite figure out why.

Kyle brought his hand up to wrap itself in Stan’s hair, mostly so he could keep standing without swaying. He started to press more kisses against Stan’s lips, urging Stan to respond in some way.

Growing frustrated, Kyle took Stan’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it. Stan whined. That seemed to move Stan into some sort of action. Instead of standing motionless in the cold, Stan began to move his lips against Kyle’s.

Stan groaned as Kyle managed to work his way into Stan’s mouth, pulling at his tongue and using teeth to bite at his lips. Stan was too surprised to respond back other than moving his lips against Kyle’s. There would be moments where Kyle did _something_ that made him make some sort of noise, accidentally releasing them from his throat.

Hesitantly, Kyle pushed Stan against the side of the car, near the open door that was still announcing that it was ajar. Kyle’s mouth worked against Stan’s; he pressed on, hoping that Stan would respond a little more.

It wasn’t long before Kyle’s wishes were granted. As if he were waking up to what was happening to him, Stan started to press his tongue against Kyle’s, mimicking the movements that Kyle had been doing just minutes before. Stan wasn’t a great kisser, but he was catching on quickly.

Teeth scraped against skin, and they pushed closer, the taste of alcohol lingering between them. Stan’s hands found their way to Kyle’s hair, tangling in the strands as they sucked at each other’s tongues. It was messy and gross and neither of them knew what they were doing, but they didn’t dare make a move to stop.

Eventually, as the car’s incessant whining had started to become too much, Kyle pulled away with a few last kisses against Stan’s lips.

Stan’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at Kyle, dazed and a bit scared. Kyle was in a similar state, though their kissing hadn’t lessened any of the affects of alcohol on Kyle’s system. Stan opened his mouth to say something, but Kyle stopped him.

Kyle turned away, walked toward a snow bank, and knelt down before it. Then he threw up.

Stan gaped. Kyle groaned, clutching his stomach, and leaned over once again, throwing up half on the snow and half on the parking lot. Stan felt pretty nauseous himself, but not from alcohol.

“Oh, jeez. You’re pretty fucked up, man,” Stan said, mostly to himself. He kneeled down next to Kyle, rubbing his back lightly, trying to soothe him somehow.

Kyle leaned over the pavement, throwing up a little bit more. “Ugh… I had way too much,” Kyle moaned before dry heaving over the parking lot.

“I’m going to go get you some water, okay?” Kyle just nodded in response, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Kyle moved himself to sit beside the car and closed his eyes to try to ignore the constant chime of “A door is ajar.” Just as he was beginning to get annoyed by the robotic voice nagging at him, Stan reappeared, a glass of water for each of them in his hands.

“Here, dude,” he said as he kneeled down next to Kyle, holding the plastic cup gingerly in front of Kyle’s line of sight.

Kyle grabbed it and went to drink, but managed to pour the first sip down his front. Stan laughed and adjusted the glass for Kyle to drink from, and he found that he wasn’t really angry about being babied at the moment. 

“Feel any better?”

“A little,” Kyle managed, looking up at his friend. “Stan?”

“Yeah, Kyle?”

“Why does it say ‘the door is ajar?’ I know it means that the door is open, but I keep thinking it’s saying the door is a literal jar and I’m getting really confused. The door isn’t a jar.” Kyle spoke in all seriousness, his expression never faltering.

Stan, trying not to laugh, just said, “You’re fuckin’ drunk.”

After Kyle finished his water, Stan helped him slide into the car, adjusting him to be comfortable before hopping into the driver’s seat. He started up the vehicle, heating it up a bit before backing out and heading home, being more careful with his driving than he would have been otherwise.

About half way back, Kyle started to drift off. He was aware that they were arriving in South Park. They stopped at Stan’s house. Kyle had a vague notion of yelling out the window that he wasn’t that drunk to Sharon, but then he remembers opening the door to throw up again. Then they were home, and he was upstairs, and Stan was helping him brush his teeth. Because “vomit is gross” Stan said. He would know. Stan knows a lot of things, Kyle thought.

Then he was in his bed. And Adina was in her bed. And Stan was there, and Kyle didn’t want him to go, because his two favorite people where there and he wanted them to stay.

He knows he said, “Don’t leave me.” He was tired. He was drunk, too, and that was affecting his judgment. He knew that. But he said it anyway. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“I’m right here.” That’s what Stan said. Or that’s what Kyle thought he said. Kyle hoped he wasn’t imagining it.

“Am I dreaming?”

“No, you really did throw up all over the parking lot.”

Kyle moaned in response. Then he thinks that he pulled Stan down to kiss him. Or maybe he dreamed it.

Before he finally drifted off, Kyle realized that he had just fucked everything up. Majorly. He just hoped that he didn’t remember any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Song: [King and Lionheart](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A76a_LNIYwE) \- Of Monsters and Men


	3. Abstinence Only Education Didn’t Prepare Me for This

### Chapter 3: Abstinence Only Education Didn’t Prepare Me for This

Morning only brought the promise of pain. That wasn’t normally Kyle’s way of thinking, but right now that was the only truth that he knew. The pounding headache and the constant nausea was proof enough.

The first time Kyle woke up, he managed to get out of bed and stumble to the bathroom, but the way his head spun told him that he should just go back to bed, since he was obviously still drunk.

Hours later, he woke up slowly, and for a long time he just lay in bed, trying to keep whatever was left in his stomach from coming up his throat. He didn’t dare open his eyes, since he had a feeling that if he did, he’d just end up closing them again. His brain felt pretty muddled as he tried to piece together what had happened the night before. He distinctly remembered throwing up. That was clear. Stan had taken care of him.

He almost laughed at the idea. It had always been the other way around.

Kyle cracked open an eye to check the time on his alarm clock. 10:13 A.M. He had no recollection of coming home last night, so he had no idea how long he had actually been asleep. It felt like years.

On the bedside table, someone had placed a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. Something told him it was Stan.

Kyle downed the pills with the help of the water, and lay back down.

His head throbbed. He covered his eyes with his arm, swallowing back the foul tasting liquid that was threatening to come up his throat. There was already an awful feeling in his mouth, he didn’t need to coat it with a fresh layer of vomit too. Kyle wasn’t sure how anyone could enjoy drinking if this is what you had to go through each time.

He appreciated how quiet the room was. It made things easier to handle. But there should be more noise… right? Kyle opened his eyes and glared at the ceiling.

Where was Adina?

He sat up, looking over to the crib. Okay. She wasn’t there. No need to freak out. She was probably somewhere else.

Kyle was freaking out anyway. He slid his feet around, placing them on the floor beside his bed before pushing himself up. He wasn’t very steady, but he was up. Gripping his forehead in pain, he trekked across the room, making his way to his door.

He felt like it was a miracle that he made it to the hallway. He deserved a standing ovation. God, he had been drunk. Didn’t he normally know how to control himself? Though, he usually hated the taste of alcohol when he was drinking, and those Bloody Marys had tasted really good to him, which probably attributed to his over-indulgence. 

Kyle tried calling for his mom, but his voice was too weak to carry past the hallway. He made his way over to the staircase, gripping the railing tightly before even attempting to move down it.

The pain of his headache and the nausea made moving more disorienting than it should have been. That, and he wasn’t sure he was completely sober yet.

Finally, he made his way down the stairs. He stood at the bottom of the staircase for a few moments, fighting to not throw up all over himself. He swore to himself that he would never drink again. Okay, that was a lie. He wouldn’t drink for another month. But he never wanted to drink to that excess again. This was awful.

When he remembered why he was moving around in the first place, he managed to pull himself together and shuffle through the living room, hoping that he would find his mom or Adina soon. As he neared the kitchen, he heard voices. Part of him wanted to turn away and go back upstairs to avoid the sound, but he needed to find his daughter.

He walked into the kitchen, and without even looking around to see who was there, asked, “Where’s Adina?”

When he finally did look, he felt insanely stupid, because there she was. She was sitting in a high chair, eating a few pieces of dry cereal off of the tray. She looked up at him and smiled widely, making Kyle smile back in return. It was just then he realized how much of the nausea he was feeling was from not knowing where she was.

Sheila was there, standing in front of the stove, making something for Ike, who sat at the table playing a game on his phone. And then Stan was there, sitting in front of Adina and offering her some piece of mushed up food that Kyle didn’t care to identify. Wait, why was Stan here?

“Oh, _Kyle_ , you look atrocious,” Sheila said, placing some eggs in front of Ike.

“Thanks, Mom,” Kyle muttered, pulling out a chair and practically falling into it.

“Rough night?” Ike asked, a smug smile gracing his features.

Kyle, too hungover to think of anything intelligent to say, just flipped him the bird. Thankfully, Sheila missed it.

Turning towards Stan, Kyle asked, “What are you…?” The look that Stan was giving him made him hesitate. Stan was staring, wide-eyed, and his face had started to color very brightly pink.

Kyle stared back, confused, trying to figure out what was going on. He was missing something. His mom had started in on a spiel about how Stan had taken care of him last night, and took care of Adina this morning. Kyle wasn’t really paying attention, and started to completely ignore her when she started talking about how he needed to be more careful and he was lucky he had such a good friend to take care of him.

Take care of…? Stan had taken care of him after he threw up in the parking lot. Which was after…

Oh. Oh _shit_. 

Kyle turned away from Stan, focusing on the table in front of him. Now Kyle understood why he was getting the deer in the headlights look from Stan. He had kissed Stan. He had effectively made out with Stan, pushed him against a talking car and practically felt him up, and then threw up in the parking lot.

Kyle’s mom came and placed a glass of water and a plate of eggs and toast in front of him, saying, “Try to keep this down.”

He didn’t think he could keep anything down ever again.

“Stan,” he squeaked, not looking up from the eggs that had been placed in front of him.

Stan practically jumped, startling Adina a little bit. “Y-yeah?”

“Um,” Kyle started. Good way to begin a conversation, Kyle. “Thanks for, you know, taking care of me. I was pretty messed up.”

Stan breathed out noisily. “Yeah. No problem. You would have done the same.” _You_ have _done the same_ was implied, but left unspoken.

Kyle didn’t look up. He might have done the same for Stan, but Stan had never tried to kiss him when he was drunk. Stan was hardly coherent when he was drunk. Kyle picked at his breakfast, feeling guilty. He wanted to say something. He wanted to clear things up and say, ‘Hey, sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t mean to make out with you, I don’t know what I was thinking,’ but he couldn’t, because his mom and Ike were there, and that wasn’t a conversation that he needed to have with them over coffee and breakfast.

He managed to eat half of his food before starting to feel ill again. He spared a few glances over at Stan, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but Stan was pretty much ignoring him.

Kyle’s memories of the night before were admittedly hazy, but he remembers the kissing. He remembered the girl (whose number was still on his hand), and he remembers asking Stan to kiss him. And he remembers liking it.

Kyle wanted to curl up and hide under the table, but since that wasn’t an option, he settled with closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead to relieve some of the pain.

Ike tried to start conversation, but Kyle was too tired. He didn’t really feel like answering questions about what happened. There was a lot he had to sort out.

Stan stood up abruptly, the sound of his chair scraping against the tile sounding like a crack of lightning to Kyle’s poor head. Kyle winced and vowed to take a few more ibuprofen.

“Well,” Stan muttered, picking up his mess from the table and bringing it to the sink, “I should get going. I’ve gotta get home.” Kyle thought Stan sounded like he was in a hurry to get out of there. He couldn't say that he blamed Stan. He was kind of grateful.

“See you later,” Kyle groaned, waving to Stan with the hand that wasn’t rubbing circles in his forehead.

“Yeah… See ya…” Stan left then, almost running out of the house.

Kyle rubbed his eyes, moaning in pain. It was going to be a long day.

He turned to Ike, trying to compose himself as much as possible, and asked, “What day is it?”

“Man, you must be really out of it,” Ike commented, giving Kyle a look that was meant to be condescending. Kyle didn’t really give a shit. “It’s Saturday.”

Kyle sighed. That means he had work today. One part of him wanted to call in sick, but he knew he couldn’t afford to lose out on the money. That, and he was having a difficult time picking up extra hours during the week.

Hoping to dispel some of the symptoms of his hangover, he refilled his glass of water and chugged it. He announced he was going to take a shower and headed upstairs, finding some clothes that were suitable for work. He didn’t have to go to work for another few hours, but he felt like he’d need all that time to get ready with the way he was feeling today.

His shower went on longer than he usually let it, steaming up the room and pissing off Ike, who banged on the door because he wanted to pee or something. Kyle shouted at his brother, his head pounding in protest. God he just wanted this day to be over.

Kyle wrapped a towel around his waist and draped one over his shoulders, hoping to catch the gallons of water that seemed to hide in his curls. Then, just to piss off Ike even more, he spent a little extra time at the sink brushing his teeth, making sure to clear his mouth of all the gross things that had accumulated there last night. He opened the door to the bathroom, jumping out of the way as Ike shoved his way through. Ike didn’t even wait for Kyle to get out of the room to start relieving himself.

Kyle dragged himself into his room, changing into his work outfit as slowly as he could. He picked up the pace when he heard Adina starting to make a fuss a few rooms over, and as soon as he stepped out of his room, she started to cry, triggering another headache.

After another round of ibuprofen for Kyle and some wrangling with Adina, Kyle was starting to feel marginally better. The nausea was gone, and his headache was down to a more reasonable level. But by the time he was feeling better, he had to leave. He kissed Adina goodbye, left her with his mother, and shuffled out to his car.

Kyle almost threw up when he heard his car tell him that his door was ajar. He remembers hearing that a lot the night before. He needed a new car.

He pulled into the Denny’s parking lot and put his vehicle in the employee parking. Kyle sat in his car for a few minutes, letting himself rest a little bit before starting his shift. After a moment, he left his car, making sure to grab a black baseball cap from the back seat, and headed inside. Hiding his hair in the hat and putting on a full-length apron, he was ready for work.

The only other person in the back at the moment was the cook, a girl a few years older than him. Despite working with her for a few months, he never seemed to remember her name. Janice? Jessie? Something with a J.

“ _Hello_ , Kyle!” she chimed, way too chipper for such a terrible day.

“Hi.” His voice was flat and uninviting. He hoped she’d get the message.

She didn’t. “How are _you_ today?” she asked, putting too much emphasis on her words. It annoyed Kyle more than it normally would.

“Tired,” Kyle said, not even bothering to hide how he truly felt. 

“Oh, _no_! I’m so sorry. That’s just _awful_. What’s wrong?”

Annoyed, Kyle started getting his station ready, dumping some dirty dishes into the sink. “Hungover,” he said plainly. She just made a noise of acknowledgement, but didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Thank God.

Being a dishwasher pretty much was the shittiest job ever, but it had its perks. For one, Kyle didn’t have to interact with any of the customers. Sure, his hands always smelled like everyone’s old meals, but he didn’t have to _talk_ to any of the people who ate those meals. The second perk was that sometimes the cook messed up an order. Usually, Kyle got to eat it. Sometimes it had bacon. God, Kyle loved bacon.

The biggest perk, though, was that washing dishes gave Kyle a lot of time to think. Today, he was grateful for it.

Kyle started in on the dishes, and his thoughts quickly turned to analyzing the night before. So he had been drunk. It wasn’t the first time he had been drunk (he was friends with _Stan_ , of course he had been drunk before), but it was the first time he had been out drinking when it was legal for him to do so. And that was _definitely_ the first time he’d been drunk enough to throw up.

Kyle dropped a plate in the sink, making him jump out of his thoughts. He looked around to see if anyone noticed, but no one had. Breathing out, he got back to work, shoving another tray of dishes into the washer.

Okay. So he kissed some people. One of those people was Stan. That’s not the worst thing in the world. He’d kissed a few guys before. Not a lot, but, hey, it was enough for him to know he wasn’t against the idea. It had always happened at parties, when everyone was a little drunk and Kyle was feeling overly affectionate thanks to the booze. Besides, Chef always said, “There’s a time and place for everything, and that’s college.” 

But there was a big difference between kissing random dudes and last night. The main thing was that those other boys he kissed _weren’t Stan_.

Kyle put some dishes away, clanking them together more forcefully than necessary. His coworker tried talking to him again, but he didn’t listen. 

He focused back on his current problems. His next big question was, ‘Did kissing Stan _mean_ anything?’ Kyle bit his lip a little as he rinsed off some more dishes. Maybe a better question to ask was if he _wanted_ that kiss to mean something. He knew he was making a bigger deal out of this than it was. Stan probably was just feeling awkward this morning. Right? But… 

Maybe Stan hadn’t liked it. At least, not the same way Kyle did. He hadn’t considered that Stan might have been avoiding him because he hadn’t liked any of it. And as far as Kyle knew, Stan had only ever shown interest in women.

Kyle sighed and placed another rack of dishes into the washer. Apparently, his hangover hadn’t left him as much as he thought it did, since his thoughts were getting jumbled and he was tired of trying to figure this out. He was just going in circles. He needed some advice.

He turned to his coworker, who was placing a plate of something up to be taken out to a customer. “Hey, uh,” Kyle started, wishing he remembered her name, “Can I ask you something?”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him strangely. He never really initiated conversations with her, so she was probably surprised that he even acknowledged her. “Yeah, sure.”

“Do you…” Kyle hesitated. How could he ask for advice without revealing anything about himself? “Do you ever want something that you know you shouldn’t have, and you’re sure will just cause trouble for you in the future, but you want to try it really badly?”

His coworker looked at him for a long moment, as if she were trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words. Then, she asked, “Is this about your love affair with bacon? It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone that you’re not keeping kosher.”

Kyle wanted to punch her in the face. “Yes. This is about my love affair with bacon. That’s exactly it.” His voice was just flat enough to convey his sarcasm, but she didn't catch that. She thought that he was being serious. Out of all the things that she could have learned about him, the only thing she managed to consistently remember is that he was Jewish and he loved bacon. It was vaguely insulting, but then again, he couldn’t even remember her name, so maybe it was for the best.

“Look, if you like bacon so much, I don’t really think it’s a big issue if you want to eat it. Other people might get on your case about it, but if it makes you happy, go for it.” Kyle blinked, surprised that her response could actually be used for his current situation. Of course, it only was usable advice until she said, “It’ll probably make you fat and get heart disease, though.”

Kyle glared. “Thanks.” With that, he went back to his dishes, wishing that he had just forgone getting advice from the cook. He pulled the brim of his cap down to cover his face, and put on an air of hostility that, thankfully, stopped anyone from trying to talk to him for the rest of the night.

\- - -

Kyle slunk into the house, stomping his shoes on the mat in front of the door to remove some of the snow and hanging his coat to dry. He slipped off his shoes, shuffling into the kitchen to grab something to eat. His mother was in there, sipping some tea at the kitchen table and reading something. Ike was at the table as well, eating a sandwich. Ike waved at Kyle when he entered the room, looking chipper.

“What are you two both doing up?” Kyle asked, glancing at the clock. It was a little past eleven. Ike was usually up pretty late, but seeing his mom up was a bit unusual.

“Adina was a little fussy after going to bed, and then Ike wanted a snack,” Sheila explained, her eyes flitting up to her oldest son. She smiled softly, the type of smile that made Kyle want to pour his heart out to her. Parents had a way of doing that.

“I’m sorry about Adina,” Kyle said, pulling a chair out and dumping himself into it. He felt heavy, like he could barely lift his body to move anymore.

“Oh, no, Bubbeleh, it’s fine. You and Ike were much worse at that age,” Sheila said, laughing at the looks her boys gave her in response.

“It’s like she wants us to hate her,” Ike mumbled, and Kyle snorted, trying to keep his composure.

Sheila stood and walked to the kettle on the stove, and asked, “Kyle, do you want some tea? You look like you could use something to drink.”

Kyle nodded and said, “Yeah, that would be nice.” Sheila started getting things together as Kyle watched. “Ma, can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure, Bubbeh.” Her back was turned to him as she busied around the kitchen. “I’m always here to listen. You know that.”

She walked back over to the table with a mug in her hand and placed it in front of Kyle. He gripped the handle and she said, “Careful. It’s hot.” Kyle smiled a little. Even after all this time, she still babied him.

She sat down across from him, picking up her own tea and taking a sip, before asking, “So, honey, what is it you want to talk about?”

Kyle looked down at his mug, watching the tea steep before taking a deep breath and saying, “I think I might have messed things up with Stan.”

Sheila sat her mug down on the table and looked at him sympathetically, and Kyle felt his gut wrench. How were mothers so good at making you want to cry when you’re trying so hard to keep composure?

Ike snorted a little into his sandwich, and muttered, “Yeah, like you didn’t screw things up when you ignored him cause you had a kid.”

Kyle shot Ike a dirty look, holding his mug in a death grip.

“Ike…” Sheila started, but she was stopped.

“No! He’s acting like a spoiled kid, and you guys are letting him! He hasn’t willingly told anyone about Adina yet, and that’s just stupid and unfair to her!” Ike had riled himself into a fit, his normally pale face getting red with fury. “Kyle’s just afraid of looking like a jackass, but he’s just being an asshole by not–“

“Ike! That’s enough!” Sheila bellowed, though her face still held a sense of calm.

Kyle sat in the silence that followed, looking down at his tea in shame. He still hadn’t had any of it. He brought his mug up to his face, taking a short sip before setting it back down again, watching the ripples meet the edge of the mug and bounce back. 

“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?” Ike asked, venom dripping from his words.

Kyle sucked in a breath and whispered, “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” Ike looked surprised, and when Kyle spared a glance at his mother, she looked just as shocked as his little brother. “I’ve been too afraid of what other people will think to even let myself be seen around here. But then I’d have to deal with everyone asking where her mom is and…”

Sheila reached across the table to put a hand over his, squeezing it a little when he looked up from his tea. “I know, Bubbeh. You need time to sort things out.”

Kyle nodded slowly. Ike let out a frustrated sigh, but Kyle ignored him. Ike wasn’t there, not like their mom was. He wasn’t involved. And so far, Kyle hadn’t told Ike the whole story.

“Now,” Sheila started again, startling Kyle in his chair, “What happened with Stan?”

Kyle’s stomach clenched up again, forming a knot of nervousness in the pit of his gut. “Ah,” he started, taking another sip from his mug. “Well, I think I messed things up between us. Last night, when I was…”

“Wasted,” Ike supplied.

“… _drunk_ ,” Kyle glared at Ike, “I think I did something I shouldn’t have.”

“Well, do you know what Stan thinks about it?” Sheila asked, looking pensive.

Kyle’s eyes lowered to the mug in between his hands. “Ah, no… I don’t. I’m afraid to ask him about it, especially since I’m… I’m not really sure how I feel about it.”

“Kyle, I know it’s hard, but I think the best thing you can do is figure out how you feel about it and then go _talk to him_. You won’t know what he’s thinking unless you ask.” Sheila took another sip from her tea, finishing it off, and set her cup aside. “You boys have never had problems getting along before. What happened that you can’t talk to him about it?”

When Kyle didn’t answer right away, Ike leaned in, only to smirk and say, “I bet you kissed him.”

Kyle felt a jolt go through him and he turned to glare at Ike, his face flushing and his hand clenching around his drink. “Shut up,” Kyle ground out, his jaw clenched and unmoving.

Ike’s expression faltered and his eyebrows rose to his hairline. “No way. You actually kissed him?” Ike’s face split into a shit-eating grin and he leaned forward on the table, his half-eaten sandwich falling apart in his hand.

“I said shut up, you little maggot!” shouted Kyle, standing from his chair. Ike stuck his tongue out and Kyle lunged, managing to catch Ike before he could jump from his chair. Kyle pulled him back by the shirt and put his little brother in a headlock, practically strangling him in the process. Ike flailed around, pulling wherever he could and managing to grab a handful of Kyle’s hair, yanking on it to try to get Kyle to let go.

“Boys! Break it up!” Sheila rose from her chair and stomped over to them. Their fighting slowed to a stop, the force of her anger stilling them as she got closer. She stopped directly in front of them and Kyle let go of Ike, and Ike released Kyle’s hair.

“Sorry, mom,” Kyle muttered, looking down at the floor, the sight becoming almost humorous since Kyle was a good foot and a half taller than his mother.

"Yeah. Sorry,” Ike whispered, looking down as well.

“Don’t apologize to me,” Sheila chided. “You should be apologizing to each other.”

Ike and Kyle glanced at each other quickly and mumbled out a quick apology in sync with each other. As soon as they did that, Sheila sighed and shooed Ike out of the kitchen and up to bed. She then turned to Kyle and motioned for him to follow her. He grabbed his tea and walked behind her into the living room, sitting down next to her on the couch.

As soon as he was seated, Sheila wrapped an arm around Kyle and pulled him close, and Kyle let himself curl up and rest his head on his mother’s shoulder.

“Kyle, do you want to talk about it?” Sheila’s hand was curled up in Kyle’s hair, scratching mindlessly.

“You’re not mad?” Kyle asked, his eyes looking up toward his mother. “About me, uh, kissing another guy?”

She laughed softly, but it was not unkind. “Oh, Bubbeleh… I can’t say I understand, but if it makes you happy, I’m not going to stop you.

“I don’t know if it makes me happy. I’m still trying to figure that out,” Kyle said, curling closer to his mother. “Ike’s still a little brat, though.” Sheila made a sound deep in her throat as if to ask him to continue, so he said, “I didn’t know how you’d take it. I guess he was joking, but still. What if you got mad?”

Sheila wrapped her other arm around Kyle, still scratching his hair gently. “I’ll have a talk with him. But you should also know that no matter what you do, your father and I will always love you. You brought home a baby and we let you back in the house, do you really think we’d throw you out for kissing another boy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve had time to think about that yet,” Kyle admitted.

An awkward silence fell over them, but Sheila still held onto Kyle, comforting him without words. After a few moments, she asked, “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to know?”

She was quiet for a moment, thinking before she said anything. Kyle had never really seen her take so long to say something, she tended to rush forward with her words, saying things without much thought and riling people up. Then, she asked, “Do you still like girls?”

He was almost offended, since she had just said that she was okay with whatever he decided to do. Calming himself down a little, Kyle realized that she was just trying to wrap her head around it. But did he still like girls? Kyle looked down at his hand, taking in the number that had been written on his hand the night before. It was mostly faded now, but the ghost of it was still there. “Yeah. I still like girls.”

“Okay, so what are you still confused about?”

Kyle breathed in slowly and then quietly said, “I’m trying to figure out if I like _Stan_.” His mother made a noise of encouragement for him to continue. “I’m just confused and… What if I do like him? This could really hurt our friendship. And I… I don’t want to just mess around with people. Not with Adina to take care of. She needs something stable… and I think I’d rather be single for the rest of my life than make things hard for her.” 

“Now, Kyle, just because you’ve got to take care of Adina doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy yourself as well. You’re still young. You just have to be careful,” Sheila said, kissing the top of Kyle’s head.

“I don’t want to go through a bunch of people, though.” Kyle thought back to Liane Cartman. He knew how badly that could mess someone up, having a parent who jumped from lover to lover.

“You don’t have to. But if you decide to date someone, make sure that who you’re with is someone you can have fun with, too.”

Kyle turned to look into his mother’s eyes. “Do you and Dad still have fun?”

Sheila smiled and pulled Kyle closer. “Of course we do. Sometimes things are hard, but your father is my best friend. With him, I can have fun just sitting on the couch and watching television.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. You just need to find someone who will keep you happy and healthy and give you a good home. And if that person happens to be the same gender as you, then I’m not going to stop you,” Sheila said, turning to kiss Kyle’s forehead.

“And what about Stan? I… I don’t know how he feels about the whole thing. He might really hate me for kissing him like that.”

“You two boys have always been close. It’s going to take a little more than a drunken kiss to tear you two apart. Besides, I think you two will be able to figure out how to handle the situation on your own,” Sheila pointed out. “But you have to _talk to him_ about it first.”

Kyle laughed a little. He was feeling much better after talking with his mother. They stayed there a few more moments, enjoying each other’s company.

Eventually, Sheila removed her hand from Kyle’s hair and said, “Well, Bubbe, I think it’s time for bed.” Kyle removed himself from her side, following her as she rose from the couch.

She looked up to meet his eyes, and for a moment he realized just how small she was compared to him. She seemed to hardly reach half of his height, making up for the difference with her hair piled up into a massive beehive. Even so, there was no one who made him feel smaller than she did. It felt wrong to be looking down at her.

Just as he was considering sitting down so she didn’t have to look up at him, Sheila stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her son. It was an awkward hug, if only because the highest she could reach was around his ribcage, but it was warm and inviting. Kyle hugged her back, and heard her say, “I’m so proud of you.”

Then, she released him, bid him goodnight, and headed upstairs. Kyle was left in the middle of the living room floor, staring after the spot on the stairs where she vanished from his sight.

\- - -

_Can I come over?_

Kyle pressed ‘send’ on his phone’s touchscreen, feeling stupid. This was the second message he had sent today. Stan had been actively avoiding him for the past week, not responding to any of Kyle’s texts or calls. Kyle didn’t think he was being pushy, he had only sent one or two texts a day. He was starting to feel like he was getting dumped.

There was a good part of him that also realized that he was definitely getting a taste of his own medicine. Maybe he deserved this.

Kyle sighed and lay back on his bed, growing more frustrated. The confidence that he had garnered after talking with his mother had fizzled out to almost nothing, leaving him with nerves knotting in his stomach every time he thought about talking to Stan. Even so, he had continually been trying to get in contact with him. He was just getting ignored.

Shifting a little, he turned to look at the clock beside his bed. It was a little after noon. Tired of lounging around, Kyle sat up and padded out of his room, heading downstairs to the living area. He found Ike and Adina sitting on the couch, watching TV, Ike eating a bowl of cereal and Adina picking at some dry cereal that had been put out for her. She kept loosing focus though, mesmerized by the television.

Kyle made a mental note to not let Adina watch much TV. He didn’t want her to perpetually look like a zombie.

Ike was watching some show with multicolored horses, which Kyle wasn’t very interested in, but he sat down next to his daughter anyway, stealing a few of the dry cereal bits.

“What is this show?” Kyle asked.

“My Little Pony,” replied Ike, not looking over to Kyle at all.

Kyle looked down to Adina. “Do you like this show?” Sensing she was being addressed, Adina looked up at Kyle. After a few moments, she smiled widely, and it would have been toothy if she actually had a full set of teeth. “God, you’re cute,” said Kyle, kissing the top of her head.

“Why are you watching this, though?” Kyle asked Ike, ignoring the TV in favor of looking at his brother.

“Cause I like it,” Ike said plainly. He ate another spoonful of cereal. Kyle blinked and looked back at the screen. Whatever. If his little brother wanted to watch a show for girls with Adina, he wasn’t going to stop him.

Some commercials came on and Ike put down his empty bowl on the coffee table. Bringing his feet up to his chest, Ike looked over to Kyle and asked, “When is Stan coming over?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me about Stan?” Kyle fumed. Adina gurgled between them.

“Well, I was asking because I liked having him around. Everyone else asks because they want to know if you guys have kissed and made up yet,” Ike said. Sometimes Kyle hated how blunt Ike could be. Then again, Ike may have picked it up from Kyle. “So,” Ike started again, “Have you kissed and made up?”

Kyle made a strangled noise and curled his legs up to his chest, unaware that he was mimicking Ike’s pose. He huffed out a breath and placed his chin on his knees, glaring at Ike from the corner of his eye. “No. We haven’t made up. Stan keeps ignoring my messages.”

“Stan is ignoring you? Isn’t that your shtick?”

“Yeah, yeah, I appreciate the irony. But yes, Stan is ignoring me. I’ve tried calling him but he won’t answer.”

Ike gave Kyle a deadpan expression and said, “Have you tried, I dunno, _going over_ to his house?”

Kyle lifted his head to look directly at Ike. “What?”

“You know, like physically getting out of the house, walking down the block, and going to the place where Stan lives,” Ike said, exasperated.

“I thought it would be rude to just go over there,” Kyle said, feeling sort of dumb.

Ike sighed. “You know, for such a smart guy, you do some really stupid things.”

Kyle took offence to that, but he couldn’t really argue against it.

“Do you think you could watch Adina while I go over there?” Kyle asked Ike.

Ike shrugged. “I guess so. Do I get paid?”

“I’ll give you five bucks.”

“That’s nothing!”

“I’m not made of money. Besides, if you don’t, I’ll beat you up.” Kyle wouldn’t beat him up.

“Fine! I’ll watch your stupid kid.”

“Don’t call her stupid. She’s your niece, too, you know.”

Ike rolled his eyes and went back to watching his pony show. Kyle bustled around, gathering a few things he needed. Keys, boots, cell phone. He pulled on his coat and hurried out the door, wanting to get over to the Marsh’s house as quickly as possible.

Fresh snow was piled up on the sidewalks, soaking the bottom of his jeans as he hurried through it. Stan only lived a few houses away, but the chill of the air and the extra snow on the ground made it seem much farther than it really was.

Kyle rang the doorbell, tapping his feet on the front steps impatiently.

After a few moments, the door opened. Kyle opened his mouth and sucked in a breath to start talking, but he stopped when he saw Sharon standing in front of him.

“Kyle! Oh, come in dear, it’s cold outside,” Sharon said, ushering Kyle into the room. He couldn’t argue with her. He was regretting not wearing a hat.

“I hope you’re here to see Stan,” Sharon said as soon as she shut the door. Kyle turned to look at her questioningly, shrugging his coat off his shoulders. She took it from him and hung it up, her face set in a serious expression. “He hasn’t really come out of his room lately. Did something happen?”

“Uh, yeah. I need to talk to him about it, actually,” Kyle said, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Sharon smiled a little, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Something about her expression seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Kyle busied himself with taking off his boots, when Sharon said, “Adina didn’t come along?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Ah, no.” Kyle finally pulled the second boot off, and stood. “I kind of needed to come alone for this.”

Sharon nodded in understanding, but she looked disappointed. “That’s a shame. But please, bring her over some time.” Kyle agreed to do so.

Kyle walked through the living room, heading toward the stairs. The Marsh’s house was set up nearly identical to his own, as most of the houses had been built around the same time. Randy sat in the living room, watching some game on the TV and drinking a beer.

“Sharon?” Randy turned to look where Kyle was walking.

“No. It’s Kyle, Mr. Marsh,” Kyle said, trying to make it to the stairs without having to get deeper in conversation with Randy. He was always vaguely uncomfortable around Randy, who seemed to always have a drink in his hand and tended to make things awkward for everyone around him.

“Oh, Kyle! I haven’t seen you around! I heard you were back,” Randy said, turning around in the couch to look over the back at Kyle. He was stuck now.

“Yeah, I’m just going to talk to Stan and then I should go,” Kyle said, hoping that would get Randy to turn back to the TV.

It didn’t. “You have a little girl, right?” Ugh. Of course he’d hear about it. “Girls are tough. They’ve got all their hormones and emotions and stuff.” Kyle glared. If Randy knew anything about his own son, he’d know that Stan was more emotional than most girls that Kyle knew.

"Yeah. Emotional,” Kyle said, hoping to get out of there.

“Just watch out. They’ll yell at you for the littlest things.”

“Randy!” Sharon stormed up to her husband. Kyle took that as his queue to leave. He stopped listening around the time Sharon had started shouting about spreading sexist propaganda to Stan’s friends.

Kyle inched toward Stan’s door. It was closed, and there was no light coming from underneath the door. By now it must have been close to 1 in the afternoon, making Kyle a bit nervous that Stan was still in bed.

He didn’t even bother knocking. Instead, he opened the door quietly and stuck his head in the dark room, letting his eyes adjust to the low light.

Stan was lying in his bed, an arm raised to rest over his eyes, and the other holding a can of beer. Kyle stepped into the room and closed the door, not bothering to stop it from slamming behind him.

“Stan.” The person in question lifted his head, looking over to where Kyle stood.

“Oh, hi Kyle. When’d you get here?” His words slurred together a little, and Kyle breathed out in annoyance. Kyle took a look around the room, finally able to see clearly. There were some bottles and cans scattered on the floor, but most of them were around the trashcan near Stan’s bed.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Stan laughed and reclined on his bed, stretching a little as he did so. “Yeah, I’ve just been relaxing.”

“Have you been drunk this whole time?”

Stan glared a little, but it was playful. “Not this whole time! I’ve sobered up to go to work. It’s just a nice buzz.”

“You’ve been drinking… since we went out?” Kyle could hardly keep his voice level, but he managed.

“Um.” Stan at least had sense to sound ashamed. He spoke again, “Maybe. Yeah. What day is it?”

“Friday.”

Stan finally sat up. He stared at Kyle, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth quirked up in a little smile. “I didn’t drink on Wednesday.”

“Is that the only day this week you didn’t drink?” Kyle’s voice was rising a little.

“Uh... Yeah, I think so.”

Kyle’s fists clenched at his sides. “You mean to tell me,” Kyle started, his nostrils flaring out as he spoke, “that you’ve been drinking since the last time you saw me?” Stan seemed to finally realize that he was in trouble. His stupid smirk slid off of his face, being replaced with an expression of worry. “You…”

Kyle took a moment to observe Stan. He was a mess. His clothes were disheveled, and looked like they had been worn for a few days. He sported bags under his eyes, and his hair was greasy and sticking to his forehead worse than normal. He had obviously forgone shaving for the past few days, leaving him with an impressive amount of stubble and unruly looking sideburns. Kyle wanted to hurt him. He wanted to fucking maul him; to break him. Did he really have to throw a fit like this? Over a stupid kiss? 

So Kyle said the only thing that he could think of that would hurt Stan, even in his intoxicated state.

“You look like your dad.”

Stan gaped like a fish. But Kyle wasn’t lying. Stan’s stupid facial hair grew so fast that he was now sporting a moustache that made him look like a mix between a pedophile and Randy. And the general drunkenness sure gave off a “Randy” vibe.

“T-Take that back.” Stan glared at Kyle, sounding like a petulant child.

“No.”

“I said, take it back!” Stan rose warily from his bed, taking two woozy steps toward Kyle.

“And now you’re acting like your dad, too.”

That apparently was the right thing to say to get Stan angry, because he ran at Kyle clumsily, trying to swing his arms in messy punches. Unfortunately for Stan, Kyle was quite a bit taller, allowing him to grab Stan before he could get anywhere close with his fists.

“You’re such a stupid kid!” Kyle yelled, pulling Stan into a headlock and dragging him out of the room. Stan pushed and punched as hard as he could, but Kyle refused to let go until they had reached the upstairs bathroom.

Kyle slammed the door behind them with his foot and dragged Stan over to the bathtub. He dumped Stan into it, who was still flailing wildly, and blasted the cold water on the poor guy. Stan sputtered and stopped trying to beat up an invisible assailant, more focused on trying to get the water to stop.

Kyle turned the shower off. “Are you ready to talk like an adult?”

Stan, shivering slightly in his wet clothes, nodded. His glare was trained on Kyle.

Kyle took in a breath and shouted, “First of all, I thought you said you were better about this shit! You said you had it under control!” He didn’t really care who heard. He wasn’t going to lower his voice. Looking back from earlier that day, he realized that Sharon might have had her own suspicions the entire time.

“I… I do! I can control it! I just… I dunno. I didn’t want to…” Stan tapered off, losing steam quickly.

“Oh yeah? Pretty much six solid days of drinking? That’s what you call control?”

“I said I stopped for work!” Stan pleaded, trying desperately to gain some leverage against Kyle. “I wasn’t drinking during work.”

“No, but you were right before it, I’m sure!” Stan was silent. That was enough confirmation for Kyle. He huffed angrily, then started up again. “Second of all, what possible reason could you have for going on a binge like this?”

Stan looked away from Kyle, wrapping his arms around himself. Kyle knew the reason behind Stan’s drinking this time, but he wanted to hear it.

“Answer me!”

“This time isn’t that bad.”

He was right. It wasn’t that bad. High school had seen him much worse. At least this time he could still talk, he could still stumble across the hall to the bathroom, still know his name. But that didn’t stop Kyle from being more pissed off this time than he had any of the other times. “That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I just wanted to, okay?”

Kyle sneered. “I _know_ you. You don’t do this when you ‘just want to’. Something happens, and then you drink yourself stupid, and then I’m always here to clean up the mess.”

He almost didn’t hear Stan whisper, “You weren’t always here.” Kyle bristled.

The room was suffocating, and Kyle’s throat clenched up tightly, making his words catch slightly. He kneeled down in front of Stan, gripping the sides of the tub so tightly that his knuckles went white. “You’re doing this because I kissed you, aren’t you?”

Stan merely groaned in response.

“Look… Okay, just. I’m sorry I kissed you, okay? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all week just to tell you that I’m sorry!” Kyle hissed, sounding more angry than apologetic. Stan still hadn’t looked up. “But… you can’t just ignore me like this!”

“I…”

“And you can’t just—fuck. You can’t just get smashed because I kissed you! If you didn’t fucking like it, then just tell me! You can tell me not to do it, and I won’t do it ag—“

“I _did_ like it!”

Kyle stopped his ranting and stared at Stan, who still wouldn’t look at him.

“What?” Stan opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t continue. After about a moment, Kyle leaned forward in front of Stan so his knees were knocking up against the tub and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Look at me.”

Stan looked at him.

“What did you say?” It wasn’t a question, it was a command.

“I…” Stan’s voice cracked a little as he spoke, and he looked close to tears. “I liked it.”

Kyle breathed out through his nose huffily. “So. You liked it. And because you _liked_ that I kissed you, you’ve been drinking for a week?”

Stan could no longer keep eye contact, and looked down in shame. “I didn’t want to think about it.”

“So you’re avoiding it.”

“It seemed like it was just some… drunken kiss to you. Like you didn’t care who you kissed. I just happened to be there,” Stan said. Kyle was surprised he was able to be so eloquent for still being drunk, but maybe being soaked in icy water had helped him out.

“It _was_ just a drunken kiss.” Stan inhaled sharply, and Kyle felt badly for a second, but continued with, “But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t like it too.”

Finally, Stan looked up in confusion. He seemed to wither under Kyle’s gaze, which was still serious and a bit unkind. Kyle stood and backed away. Then, he said, “Dry off and sober up. And _stay_ that way. We have a lot to talk about. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Stan nodded shakily and stood from the tub. Kyle made no offer to help him up, but he did make sure that Stan got dried off and went to bed.

With Stan put to bed, Kyle stomped down the stairs, his hands shoved in his pockets. Sharon caught up with him at the door, looking concerned.

“Was everything alright up there?” She asked, sounding vaguely suspicious.

“Fine. We just had a little talk,” Kyle said tersely, pulling his jacket on a little more forcefully than necessary.

“It sounded a little loud for a talk.” That was definitely an accusation.

Kyle pulled his boot up, starting to lace it. Kyle searched for a response, but came up with nothing. Instead, he grunted in reply.

“Kyle,” Sharon started, taking on a more motherly tone. Kyle couldn’t help but look up at her, pausing his shoe tying. “I know it’s easy to forget sometimes, but Stan is very sensitive.” Kyle couldn’t forget that if he tried. “I know you were busy with Adina, but when you stopped talking with Stan… and he finally accepted it… Well, let’s just say that I didn’t get him out of his room for a month.”

The anger that Kyle had felt had dissipated by now, and instead he looked down to his boots, still half laced. Sharon knelt down and put an arm on his shoulder. “Stan thinks the world of you, to the point where I worry about him. Whatever you do, he’s going to take it to heart.”

Kyle was still quiet, not wanting to move closer or farther away from Sharon. He heard her take another breath, and then she said, “You’re a good person, Kyle. I wouldn’t call you family if you weren’t. But you have to _think_ , okay?” He nodded, feeling the start of tears prick at his eyes. He blinked a few times, managing to keep them from falling.

He finished putting on his boots and adjusted his jacket, leaving the house as quickly as he could. The walk back was colder than the walk there.

\- - -

Kyle had been waiting in the parking lot behind Skeeter’s Bar for about an hour and a half. He had no idea when Stan got off of work, but he hoped it was soon. Kyle’s car wasn’t very happy about sitting around idling every fifteen minutes. His car didn’t even like to be outside in general.

He rested his head on the top of the steering wheel, watching the back door to the bar like a hawk. It was pretty late, and Kyle was regretting not asking his dad when the bar closes. He pulled his jacket up closer to his neck, trying to cover up the spot between his hair and his coat.

Kyle was fighting to stay awake when he saw the back door pop open. He could see what he assumed was Stan pulling out a garbage bag and tossing it into the dumpster beside the door. Kyle straightened in his seat and watched as Stan walked back inside.

Figuring that Stan was close to being finished, Kyle took his keys from the ignition and stepped outside of his car, his feet crunching in the fresh snow. The lot had been plowed earlier that night, but there had been a light dusting of snow since he had been sitting there. Things had mostly cleared up now.

Kyle stood a few feet away from the door, glowering at it. After a good ten minutes, the door finally opened again. Stan was pulling another garbage bag out of the building, but this time he was dressed to go home. The door slammed behind him, and he looked up.

“Shit!” Stan dropped the garbage bag. “I don’t want trouble!”

Kyle snorted. “Dude, it’s just me,” he said, stepping into the light of the streetlamp above the door.

It took Stan a few seconds for his vision to adjust to be able to see whom he was looking at, but as soon as it did, his posture relaxed. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that,” Stan muttered, picking up the garbage bag he dropped. He took another look at Kyle. “Is that… You’re wearing your hat,” Stan said.

Kyle looked up, even though he could barely see the edge of the green ushanka, since it was perched on his head. “Oh. Yeah, well, it was the only one I could find. It’s cold.”

Stan smiled a little. “I like it. It’s like nothing has changed.”

Kyle puffed out his cheeks, biting back words. Of course things had changed. But he wasn’t going to say that.

“Hurry up. We’re going for a drive.” Kyle turned around and headed toward his car, not even checking to see if Stan was following him. Kyle knew he would.

Kyle waited in his old clunky car, blasting the heat. Stan opened the door, making the car go into another round of “the door is ajar”, and quickly sat down. He was nervous.

“H-how long have you been waiting out here?” Stan asked, picking at his fingers.

“About two hours?” Kyle said, guessing. “Buckle your seatbelt.”

Stan did what Kyle asked, but took a long look at him as he backed out of the parking spot. “Kyle, you know that bars close at two, right?”

Kyle waited for a moment before saying, “Now I do.”

Stan rolled his eyes and leaned against the car door, lifting his gaze skyward. The clouds that had brought the snow earlier that night had mostly vanished, letting him see the stars that shone above.

They rode in silence. Kyle didn’t move to turn on the radio, and Stan didn’t dare mess with the music without Kyle saying he could. They left the city limits, heading toward the wilderness. Kyle took a few of the back roads, leading them to a clearing that was big enough to see the sky.

After parking, Kyle shut the car off and turned off the headlights. He took a few moments to just sit there before letting himself out of the car, stepping out into the chilly air. Confused, Stan followed him out of the vehicle.

Kyle leaned against the hood of the car, watching his breath mist in the air. Stan was unsure what to do, so he just stood near the car, looking at the stars. It was easier to see them out here than from inside the car.

“Did you find Ursa Major?” Kyle asked. Stan snorted, muttering something about how Kyle _would_ use the technical name.

“Yeah. I found it. But I’m trying to find the little dipper now,” Stan said, his face turned skyward.

“Here,” Kyle said, sliding off the car and walking toward Stan. Kyle stood behind Stan and pointed upward, toward Ursa Major. “See the far edge of the ladle shape?” Stan nodded. “If you follow that angle upward,” Kyle dragged his finger across the sky, “You can find the tail of Ursa Minor. That’s the north star.”

“Like with the three wise men?”

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

“I’m joking. Of course I know who the three wise men are.”

Stan laughed a little.

Kyle let his hand drop to his side, sighing deeply. “Look, we need to talk.”

The silence dragged on until Stan said, “Are you going to break up with me or something? Because the last I checked, we’re not dating.”

“What?”

“That’s just what everyone says before you break up with them.”

Kyle opened his mouth and closed it a few times, before laughing hollowly. “I guess you’re right. Let me rephrase it. Uh. Well. We should discuss what happened.”

Stan looked lost, and asked, “Which part?” 

Kyle cleared his throat and tugged at his hat, pulling it lower over his ears. “That kiss…”

Stan shuffled his feet a little, since his hands were busy trying to get warm in his pockets. “Look,” he started, his voice shaking slightly, “you were drunk. It’s fine. I’ve done my fair share of stupid things while drunk.” Kyle tried to open his mouth to speak, but Stan cut him off. “You don’t have to try to try to make up for it or make something of it. It meant nothing.”

“Stan! You can’t say it meant nothing, you got drunk off your ass because of it!”

“I wasn’t drunk off my ass! I was just… Mildly tipsy.”

“I don’t care what you call it, you obviously took it hard. I just…”

“What? You just what?” Stan was yelling now, his shouts coming out in foggy bursts of air. “Nothing needs to come of this! You thought, ‘Hey, I want to kiss someone, there’s someone right here who might make out with me!’ That’s all it was!” Kyle glared, his lip curling into a tight scowl. “That kiss? It meant nothing!”

Kyle took in a breath, and without thinking, yelled, “Well, maybe I want it to mean something!”

Stan stopped fuming, pausing to stare incredulously at Kyle. “Yesterday, you said that it was just a drunk kiss.”

“Didn’t you even bother to listen to what I said after that? I—Jesus Christ. I liked it! Sure, my memory of the whole thing is a little fuzzy, but I liked…kissing you,” Kyle clarified, hugging himself.

“You did?” Stan asked. He was much calmer now, the redness in his face from the cold rather than anger.

“Yeah. I did.” Kyle’s voice was a little hoarse, but he was smiling now, even if it was slight. “And, I think I’d like to do it again… If you let me.”

Stan breathed in sharply through his nose and looked down, his feet shifting awkwardly in the snow. “Like… Okay, wow. Holy shit.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, neither of them really looking at the other and the cold slowly seeping in through their shoes and clothes. Quietly, Stan said, “So you want to kiss me.”

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, shaking his entire body with the force of its beating. Kyle swallowed audibly and stuttered out, “Y-yeah. Maybe not, like, right this very second, but I’m… I’m not opposed to the idea.”

“It could be… really weird.”

“Yeah.”

“And we might fuck things up between us.”

“We’ve bounced back from worse.”

“And… I…”

Their eyes met, and Stan tried to catch his breath, the fog swirling out of his mouth and puffing into the air.

Stan breathed out, “I’m fucking terrified.”

Kyle hesitated a moment before saying, “Me too.”

“I’ve never… like… Been with a guy,” Stan tried to reason, bunching his shoulders together and looking a bit sheepish. To Kyle, it just sounded like a pathetic attempt to convince himself that he couldn’t do this.

Quietly, Kyle asked, “Have you ever thought about it?”

Stan thought for a moment, not saying anything at all. Then, “I never really considered being with another guy before. Not seriously, at least. But, one time I told Wendy if I met someone _really_ special, like, I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about them, or they were really great or… I don’t know. If I met someone who I couldn’t help but like, I would give it a shot, no matter what gender they were.”

Taking a deep breath that made it seem like he was getting ready to dive underwater, Kyle asked, “Have you met someone like that?”

Without hesitation, Stan replied, “Kyle, you are the only person who I’d ever trust enough to do that with.”

Part of Kyle felt flattered, yet the rest of him was shaking from nervousness.

“So…” he started, not sure how to continue with the conversation. “What does that mean? Like… between us?”

Stan’s eyes flitted around, meeting Kyle’s for just a few moments before moving on to something else. “You wanted to try, like… a more intimate relationship. Right?” Stan watched Kyle for a second and shifted his gaze away as soon as he saw Kyle nod in agreement. “I… Fuck, I’m sorry, this is hard.” Kyle just nodded in understanding, waiting patiently for Stan to continue.

Stan closed his eyes and breathed in, composing himself and straightening his posture. He seemed to relax a little, then opened his eyes and said, “As long as it feels right, I want this too.” Kyle opened his mouth to say something, but Stan stopped him. “Let’s just take this slow, okay?” 

“That’s okay!” Kyle exclaimed, almost too quickly. “Take your time. And, you know, if you don’t think you can do it, that’s okay too.” Kyle sucked in a breath, the icy air chilling his lungs. “I just want you to know that I won’t be mad if you start to feel uncomfortable doing… whatever this is. I just want you to keep talking to me.”

“I want that too.”

Kyle shivered violently and looked toward the car. “We should get going. I’ve got to get up in a few hours; I’m sure Adina will be getting up at six again.”

Stan nodded in agreement and the two of them got into the vehicle, heating it up for a few minutes before heading out. Kyle drove back to town slowly, letting both of them just think for a while. Neither of them turned on the radio or spoke.

They pulled up at lot behind Skeeter’s Bar, a few spaces away from Stan’s car, which was covered in a thin layer of snow.

Stan looked up, staring at his car. Kyle cleared his throat and said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you… tomorrow? Or sometime soon.”

“Yeah. I’ll text you,” Stan said, finally looking over to Kyle.

“You’ll be okay… right?”

Kyle managed to catch Stan’s eyes, and they both knew what he was really asking. Stan took a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying, “Yeah. I think I will be.”

Stan grabbed the door handle and took one more look over at Kyle. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Kyle’s cheek lightly, his lips ghosting over the freckled skin. Kyle almost didn’t feel it, and as soon as he registered the warmth of Stan’s lips, they were gone.

Embarrassed, Stan turned away and got out of the car. “See you later,” he muttered, barely loud enough for Kyle to hear.

He smiled, watching Stan struggle with his keys. After a few moments, Kyle backed out of the lot, smirking to himself. And even though he was getting to bed about five hours later than he would have liked to, he managed to get a restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Song: [Sunrise](http://youtu.be/j7pEg3KXNcs) \- Norah Jones
> 
> In case you're wondering what Kyle's coworker's name is, it's Jenny.


End file.
